


and stay there as i whisper

by rahelawriter



Series: The Starcaller and the Lionheart [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Absinthe, Accidental Drug Use, Anxiety, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Crush, Bachelorette Party, Cake, Chocobos, Comedy, Comfort Food, Conversations, Cooking, Crossdressing, Crying, Dancing, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dreams, Drunken Shenanigans, Eden's Verse Spoilers, Established Relationship, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Family, Family Bonding, Family Dinners, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fights, First Dance, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Flowers, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Goodbyes, Hangover, Hiccups, Honeymoon, Hot Chocolate, Hugs, Hypothermia, Identity Issues, Idiots in Love, Inner Dialogue, Invisibility, Late Night Conversations, Love, Love Confessions, Love Poems, Mentions of Stalking, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mother-Daughter Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Parent-Child Relationship, Patch 5.2: Echoes of a Fallen Star Spoilers, Pixies, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Podfic Welcome, Post-Wedding, Reminiscing, Restaurants, Romantic Comedy, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Speeches, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Tea, WE GOT IT DONE BEFORE 5.3 PALS, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning, Wedding Rings, Weddings, alisaie commits a crime, catnip, ysayle and haurchefant feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 69,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahelawriter/pseuds/rahelawriter
Summary: Rahela Uillces, the Warrior of Darkness, and Thancred Waters, the Guardian of the Oracle, are soon to depart from Norvrandt and return to their homeland. But before then, the two wish to celebrate their bonds: not only their own, but all the bonds they've formed with the people in this world.For indeed, much needs to be done before this ceremony can happen; the bride- and groom-to-be need all the help they can get!
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur & Warrior of Light, Alphinaud Leveilleur & Warrior of Light, Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Feo Ul & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, Gaia/Ryne | Minfilia, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ryne | Minfilia & Thancred Waters, Ryne | Minfilia & Warrior of Light, Urianger Augurelt & Thancred Waters, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Y'shtola Rhul & Thancred Waters
Series: The Starcaller and the Lionheart [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605439
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	1. The Flower Girl

**Author's Note:**

> WEDDING FIC WEDDING FIC WEDDING FIC
> 
> Also, references:
> 
> Dangoulain Stew recipe: https://riikorinkoko.wordpress.com/2019/04/29/ffxiv-real-life-cooking-ysayles-soup-including-recipe/
> 
> Ryne’s outfit: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/595317963339464738/680420597318287367/ffxiv_21022020_204534_841.png (Screenshot taken by shslivalice!)
> 
> Thancred’s outfit: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/595317963339464738/685665699749953542/Screen_Shot_2020-03-06_at_8.50.12_PM.png (From the 2019 April Fools shojo manga)

In hindsight, this seemed like a rather obvious side-effect. After channeling such a dangerous amount of ice aether through her tiny body, it came as little surprise that Ryne would end up suffering a case of (thankfully mild) hypothermia. Despite sitting cross-legged in front of the lit stove, wearing Rahela’s warmest pajamas, (a sweater, knitted sweater-like pants, fuzzy socks, and moogle slippers) and having a massive blanket draped over herself, Ryne shivered and curled herself tighter with chattering teeth.

“Don’t worry, sweetling, it won’t be much longer,” reassured Rahela, sweeping the tip of her tail over the top of Ryne’s head. The Warrior of Darkness stood beside her daughter’s little blanket cocoon, whisking some warm milk in a cookpot on the stovetop. “You’ll be warmed up in no time.”

_Normally I could just conjure a fire with my magic, but my aether reserves are so depleted that I would probably pass out from the effort. Black magic and the Empty really don’t mix…_

It was only natural that she would be tired; Rahela was exhausted after the last foray into the Empty, too. The ambient aether she usually needed to cast spells was nonexistent at first, and though it was returning more and more with each element restored, the process was slow. Though, this time she’d pushed herself far past her even her furthest limits; it left her whole body aching and sore, and she felt like her legs were going to give out at any moment. But, she still willed herself to power through it. For Ryne.

At least the music was nice. The table orchestrion played some slow, relaxing Ancient tunes, and the room was filled with the strains of calm pianos and light, syncopated drum beats to cover up the grating sound of metal against metal, and other kitchen-y noises. On the other burner, Thancred (wearing a white apron with the word “PaPa” sewn onto the front; a gift from Rahela) had just finished stirring some sliced-up sausages, popotoes, broccoli, and carrots stewing inside a pot of simmering vegetable stock, before turning his attention to the boiled popotoes that needed mashing. All the while, as often as he could spare, he glanced at the recipe card sitting just within his field of vision; despite being an outstanding cook over a campfire, he was much less confident in his indoor culinary skills. 

Nonetheless, their work continued; Rahela whisked some sugar and heavenly kukuru powder into the slightly steaming milk, while Thancred took a ladleful of the vegetable broth, making sure to get plenty of the solids, and poured it into the mashed popotoes along with the remainder of the milk left in the carton, stirring the whole affair into a thick, steaming, rich white stew. With some concentration, Rahela managed to pour her mixture into a mug without any spillage; the finishing touches were the vanilla whipped cream and the ground cinnamon, spooned and sprinkled over top, the exact same way that her dearly departed friend had done for her long ago. And after a few twists of the pepper mill, and the consequent sneezing into his elbow, Thancred silently asked if the stew he made matched what Rahela remembered from that night in the Churning Mists. With a nod, she affirmed that it did.

He nodded back. “Ryne?” Thancred called down to the girl’s huddled form, and she raised her head to look at him. “Dinner’s ready.”

Getting up and off the floor, Ryne made her way to the table and sat herself in the chair. Rahela noted her slightly sluggish movement; she’d pushed herself too hard with Eden, and burned herself out. And then, a brief dizzy spell reminded the black mage that they had both pushed themselves to the extreme.

_Why, why, why did I let her do it, why, the last time I saw that ice flower was when Ysayle was falling to her death, and if Gaia hadn’t been there, then--_

Pushing down those thoughts, Rahela forcefully reminded herself that Ryne was safe now, mostly none the worse for wear. And after this meal, she’d be warmed right back up, they could put this mess behind them, and things could go back to normal--

_At least until Thancred sets out to track Elidibus, and who knows what that monster in Ardbert’s body is capable of, and even if we do win, in the end we’ll still have to go back to the Source and leave Ryne--_

Gripping the handle of the steel mug, Rah marched herself from the stove to the table and set it down within arms’ reach of Ryne. “Here we are; Greystone's Hot Chocolate.” She took that opportunity to finally pull out the other back chair and plop down upon it to rest her tired body. “Never fails to warm the cold and lift the spirit since over a hundred years ago by this world's reckoning."

"But first, since dinner comes before dessert: Dangoulain Stew.” Thancred set down the steaming bowl directly in front of her, the smells hitting Rahela’s nose with a wave of nostalgia. With a shrug, he commented, “I’m still not sure how I feel about pairing a stew of popotoes, meat, and vegetables with _hot chocolate,_ but Rahela’s the expert on comfort foods.”

Lowering her blanket so that it sat on her shoulders like a shawl, Ryne leaned over the stew to smell it, and took a spoon in hand with a nod and a grateful smile. She was still shivering a bit, but “Th-thank you, Rahela, Thancred. Y-you didn’t need, erm,” she stops and corrects herself, “It means a-a lot, that you took the time to do this.” 

“Anything for you, babygirl, we love youuu~!” The miqo’te cooed, hugging her daughter close and nuzzling her with adoration filling her heart.

“Don’t smother her, now,” Thancred gently chided his fiancée while he stepped back towards the pantry. Rah heard the sound of a knife sawing through the hard crust of a baguette, once and then twice. Moments later, the sliced bread was delivered to the table on a tiny plate. “Here, in case you want something to dip. It’s no coffee biscuit, but it’s alright.”

Mouth already full of a few spoonfuls of hot soup, Ryne made a noise of confirmation. After she’d finished chewing and swallowing, she looked to Rahela, eyes bright with curiosity. “So, the original summoner of Shiva-- your friend, Ysayle… She made this stew for you when you travelled together?”

A bittersweet smile crossed the Warrior’s face. “That’s right. Me, her, Alphinaud, a moogle, and a dragoon named Estinien were making our way through the floating islands above the highest mountain in Eorzea. We made camp for the night while we were waiting for the winds to change, so we could meet with Hraesvelgr, the real Shiva’s lover. And Ysayle made that stew for all of us; usually the taste of vegetables just makes me gag, so I never expected to like it as much as I did. Alphy and I ended up quizzing her for the recipe, and she wrote it down for us: ‘Dangoulain Stew,’ named for her family.”

Sitting himself down opposite his fiancée, Thancred let out an amused exhale. “Heh. So we have Ysayle to thank for curing your past distaste for vegetables?”

Rah’s ears folded down, and she pouted. “No, still don’t like them; the stuff that I do like in the stew is enough to drown out the stuff that I don’t like.” Her expression then softened. “But the most important part was, it warmed us through the night when we were in one of the highest, coldest places imaginable. And the hot chocolate, too; I was at the lowest I’d ever been, when a true friend of mine who’s gone now, he made that drink to remind me there were still sweet things and kindness in the world…” 

Silence followed; Rahela looked up from her reminiscing to see Thancred and Ryne both staring at her in wonderment. Sheepishly, she scratched the back of her neck, and went back to the matter at hand. “Erm, anyroad, like Thancred said, comfort food. So, I thought we could be good parents and make both the stew and the hot chocolate for Ryne.”

Another pause, this time ended by Ryne rising from her chair to give Rahela her own big hug.

“Awww, Ryyyyne…!” Returning the hug with a contented smile, the two stayed like that for a brief while.

And then when Ryne spoke again, her voice was shaky again. “I’m, so, so sorry, Rahela… I… I saw you crying, when Shiva took over… And the spell that you used to break me out of the ice, right at the end…”

“--Oh…” In her desperation to save Ryne, Rahela took advantage of Gaia’s spell-in-waiting by casting her most powerful, and most dangerous spell: _Meteor._ The spell she only used at her most desperate times; the first time she’d used it was to destroy the Ultima Weapon in the Praetorium, and the strain it placed on her body left her exhausted and weak. And though she had improved her physical fortitude since then, casting Meteor again still took a lot out of her. But, even so…

Laying a hand over Ryne’s and clasping it tight, Rahela closed her eyes and said, slowly, “I… made a promise to F’lhaminn, when we buried Minfilia’s cat’s-eye gem. I promised her that I’d protect you, support you, love you just as much as she did for Minfy. And when you lost control, I thought I might lose you…”

Ryne hugged her tighter. “Please, don’t feel guilty, I’m the one who was thoughtless, about how you would feel…”

Oh gods, she was about to start crying again… “I-It’s alright… As long as you’re okay now, that’s all that matters. But, if you regret it that much, then… Well, nobody is keeping score, but you can just say that we’re even.”

“We’re even? For what?”

“For when you saved me, up on Mount Gulg.”

“Mm… Okay, we’re even.”

Opening her eyes and glancing to the other side of the table, Rahela saw that Thancred was no longer in his seat. Less than a moment later, a second bowl of stew and mug of hot chocolate were placed in front of her.

“Here, you deserve some too.” Thancred leaned over Rahela’s shoulder, his smile gentle. Then, looking over to Ryne, he crossed his arms and put on his best parental voice. “And as for you, young lady, you won’t be doing your mother any favors by letting your stew get cold!”

“Riiiight,” Ryne acquiesced and sat back down in her chair, returning to scooping spoonfuls of stew into her mouth. 

_“D’awww…”_ Rahela cupped her cheeks in delight, grinning from ear-to-ear at him. “You big softie, you love your giiiirls~.”

Rolling his eyes, he deadpanned, “ _Oh no,_ you’ve discovered my _deepest, darkest secret._ That I love my daughter and my fiancée. However will my reputation survive?”

All three managed to share a giggle, and eventually they settled into an easy silence, eating their meal together. At least, it was an easy silence for all but one. Periodically looking between Thancred and Ryne, Rahela hesitated to speak, unsure of how to broach the topic of what had been on her mind for the last few hours, since the main Empty investigatory party all had their talk in the Wandering Stairs. With it looking more and more like Ryne would be left behind on the First, there was something that the Warrior wanted to do before this short-lived family had to part ways…

_… Well, I guess just wing it as usual._

Once everyone had finished their dinner, that was when Rahela worked up the nerve to ask, “Hey, Thancred?”

Pausing just as he was getting up from his seat, Thancred blinked and looked to her with inquisitive eyes. He asked, “Yes?”

Nervous, and folding her ears down, Rahela stammered out, “Before we go back, ehm, to the Source--and before you leave to go and start tracking Elidibus--I was… wanting to ask you something…”

Expression turning serious, he straightened his formerly easy posture, and responded, “I’m listening.”

She felt her cheeks burning, but she looked him straight in the eye and said: “I… want to have the wedding. _Our_ wedding.”

“—Oh.” His own cheeks going slightly pink, he cleared his throat. “I see. I’m guessing, in light of recent events, and what’s soon to happen, you don’t want to wait any longer…?”

“Yeah. More than anything, I want Ryne to be there; she deserves to see this. Her, G’raha, Feo Ul, the Chais, the miners in Twine, Kai-Shirr, and Gaia, too. All the friends we’ve made here.” Then, her determined expression and tone softened. “But, it’s up to you, of course, considering you’re the groom-to-be. Do you want to have a wedding here?”

Thancred remained in contemplative silence for several awkward seconds, before smiling, shrugging, and sighing. “Hah… I suppose there really isn’t much time left for procrastination, is there? Very well, my dear Rahela; we’ll start planning for the wedding.”

_He said yes…? Oh gods he said yes, it’s actually happening it’s actually happening, it’s ACTUALLY HAPPENING I’M GETTING MARRIED. TO THANCRED. I’M GONNA MARRY THANCRED--_

Rahela could practically feel her heart about to pound out of her body; she clutched her hand over her chest as if that would calm it down. This time she was dizzy for a good reason, but good gods, all her blood was rushing out of everywhere else and into her cheeks and she could practically feel her brain shorting out.

Ryne, meanwhile, gasped and beamed in delight, and jumped to her feet, exclaiming, “That’s wonderful news! Is there anything I could do to help? Could I be part of the ceremony?”

Thancred, however, looked to the miqo’te and noticed that she was staring up at nothing and breathing heavily. Brow quirking up in some concern, he asked, “Rah…?”

And then, as though she’d eaten something horrendously spicy, Rahela pursed her lips and stumbled out of her chair and over to the counter, towards the water pitcher. Shakily pouring herself a drink, she took the glass with both hands and chugged the entirety of its contents in three gulps. After a brief moment, as though downing that cup of water had somehow put out a fire inside her, the mage let out a slow sigh of relief. In the next few seconds, she felt a poke on her back. Turning to look, there were Thancred and Ryne standing behind her.

Coughing into her arm a few times, Rahela sagged her shoulders with a sheepish look. “Erm, sorry…”

“Are you alright, Dove?” Thancred crossed his arms, giving her a bemused look. “Were you not expecting me to say ‘yes’?”

“I-I dunno what I expected, but, _hic!”_ A hiccup jumped out of her throat. “It’s just, the reality, it's-- _hic!_ \--it’s actually sinking in…!”

“Just take a moment to breathe, Rahela. _Breathe.”_

“R-right, right…” Accordingly, she took deep breaths, and reached up to comb her fingers through her hair, to calm herself down. “ _Hic!_ … Sorry again…”

A minute later, everyone was calmed down and back at the table. Her hiccups now gone, Rahela cleared her throat. “Oh-kay… Ryne, you asked about what you could do for the ceremony?”

“If it’s possible; even if it’s something small, I’d love to help, in any way I can.”

“And that is very sweet of you!” Rahela gave her daughter a thumbs-up of approval. “And yes, you can absolutely help. The only thing is, I don’t know what with, ‘cause I don’t know anything about Vrandtic weddings.”

Across the table, Thancred raised his hand; Rahela nodded at him, as if to call on him and give him permission to speak. He explained, “There’s some notable differences from how the Sanctum of the Twelve does it back home. The greatest difference in terms of the ceremony itself is that there are a great deal more people involved; besides the officiant, and the two people getting married, there’s a total of eleven positions to fill.”

 _“Eleven?_ I mean, we definitely know that many people, but that’s still a lot…”

“It’s simpler than it might sound; and if Ryne wants to fill one of those roles, then she has a few to choose from,” Thancred explained, then turned to the girl in question. “How would you feel about being a flower girl?”

Ears perking up in interest, Rahela said, “That sounds adorable, but what do they do?”

This time, Ryne explained; “Flower girls walk ahead of the bride and scatter rose petals down the aisle for the bride to walk upon. Usually it’s done by girls younger than me, but I’d love to do it!”

Crossing his arms and nodding with a half-smile, Thancred said, “Perfect. We can start the preparations tomorrow; _after_ the two of you get a good night’s rest. You two can use my bed; Ryne might still need some warming up, and if I know Rahela, she’ll want to cuddle.” 

And upon receiving the dual combination attack of Rahela’s kitty-cat eyes and Ryne’s puppy-dog eyes, he faked a dramatic sigh, and acquiesced, “… And yes, I _will_ join you once I’m done cleaning up. Now off with you to bed.”


	2. The Officiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rahela goes to see a certain Captain and Exarch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some backstory for this chapter: the Scions moved to Revenant’s Toll in 2.1, and that was the same patch that started the Crystal Tower questline. So for Rahela’s personal timeline, she and Thancred got together the night before they moved out of the Waking Sands; and the day after they moved into the Rising Stones was when she met an “Outlandish Man” who directed her towards the Crystal Tower expedition, where she met G’raha. And Thancred and Rah obviously stayed a couple throughout the MSQ, including in the Bad Timeline. So from G’raha’s PoV, Rahela’s been spoken for the entire time he’s known her; so though he does have strong loving feelings for her, that love is platonic!
> 
> because platonic love is just as important as romantic love, binch.

Checking Ryne’s temperature the next morning, Rahela and Thancred were relieved to see that, after the three had fallen asleep cuddling like a family of birds in a nest, it had gone back up to normal. But much to the girl’s displeasure, she was summarily grounded for the day, Thancred insisting that she get more bedrest after her extensive and reckless exertions in the Empty. For himself, he planned to stay in the apartment as well; both to look after Ryne and to work with Alphinaud to make a checklist of tasks that needed to be done for the wedding to happen. Normally weddings took months, or even years worth of planning; but if the people of Norvrandt could come together to build a talos the size of a mountain in record time, then surely organizing a wedding would be child’s play.

Rahela, meanwhile, had some asking around to do, for she took it upon herself to gather her side of the wedding party: the bride was to gather an ‘honor attendant,’ three bridesmaids, a ring bearer, and someone to walk her down the aisle. 

But before all of that, an officiant was needed; and though she’d already had the perfect person in mind, she needed permission from a certain other someone first…

“Sooo, you really don’t mind me asking him to do it? I know you were worried about how hard he was working on the research, so I feel bad just giving him even _more_ things to do…”

Crossing her arms and smiling faintly, Captain Lyna reassured, “Your concern for him is much appreciated. But I believe it will do him good to focus his efforts on something else for a time; and since the matter is so entwined with you and your happiness, he will be all the more willing to do it.”

“I hope so, at least.” Lifting her hand in a ‘see you later’ gesture, Rahela turned to climb a few steps up the Dossal Gate, before remembering something, and turning back around. “Actually, Lyna, I did have another question.”

The viis canted her head in slight confusion. “Yes?”

Idly noticing that she had climbed enough steps to put her directly at eye level with the taller woman, Rahela briefly paused before asking: “… Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids?”

Lyna nearly responded, and then processed what Rahela was asking her. “—I beg your pardon? Forgive me, but… You do know that such an honor is usually reserved only for the bride’s closest friends, do you not?”

“Of course I know. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise!”

Her violet eyes blinked, and her cheeks darkened just a tinge. “... You think of me as a close friend?”

“Sure I do. Why wouldn’t I?” Rahela beamed at her, completely sincere. But then she remembered and added, “Though, if you’re too busy dealing with the whole, uh, understaffing issue, then I completely understand if you can’t!”

Lyna remained silent for a moment or two, and then chuckled with a half-smile. “Hah, you flatter me, Warrior of—“ She cut herself off and cleared her throat. “I mean, _Rahela._ If you would have me, then I would gladly stand at your side. We’ve only known each other a short time, and our meetings more often than not revolve around fending off some dire threat; yet I do confess that I shall miss having you around, once you leave.”

“Aww, Lyna…” Rah hurried back down the stairs and pulled the viis into a hug, unknowingly and uncaringly drawing the attention of the other members of the Guard stationed at the Tower’s entrance. “I’m not leaving yet! That’s the whole reason this wedding is happening before we go! So you and Exarch and everyone here can celebrate with us!”

Though now slightly flustered that her subordinates were seeing their captain engaged in such an affectionate gesture, Lyna laid her hand on the back of Rahela’s head and returned the hug. “… You know, when Grandfather told me bedtime stories of the hero he knew in his youth, and said that I might meet her one day, I always imagined her to be so stoic, even intimidating. I never anticipated that she would be anything like… well, you.”

Rahela only leaned in and hugged her tighter.

Approaching the Ocular, Rahela knocked on the door and called out, “Hey, uh, Raha? Are you busy right now?”

No immediate response. Leaning her feline ear against the crack in the double doors, she listened for any sort of sound. And sure enough, she heard the sound of a book closing and clawed footsteps approaching. She backed away to allow the doors room to open outward, and sure enough, it wasn’t G’raha, but Beq Lugg answering the door.

“Good morning, Beq Lugg,” she greeted the Nu Mou. “Is the Exarch still busy? I wanted to see him about something; it’s nothing urgent, but it’s important to me personally.”

Letting her into the chamber, they gestured to the side door that Rahela had only ever entered once before. “He is resting in the Umbilicus; we were working into the wee hours of the morning on the vessel. Adamant as he was to continue, he refused to rest, and thus was I forced to make good on my threat to cast a sleeping charm on him. And I would not wake him up unless I had no other choice…”

“Please? I just want to…” … It would probably be rude, but she couldn’t resist placing emphasis on the next word: “ _Speak_ with him.”

Scowling and shaking their head, Beq Lugg grumbled, “Ooh, that was simply uncalled for!” And then they sighed in resignation, “Very well, I do believe by now the Exarch has gotten the requisite eight hours of sleep that you mortals usually need. The charm’s worn off, so he is free to wake up on his own.”

Gingerly opening the door to the Umbilicus, Rahela peeked inside to find her friend, lying unconscious atop a magically conjured bedroll. To her relief, Beq Lugg made sure he was comfortable, tucking him under a blanket and giving him a few pillows. Tiptoeing in and closing the door behind her, she knelt down beside him and pressed her fingertips against his shoulder, trying to nudge him awake.

“G’raha. G’raha…?” Another, slightly harder nudge, and Rahela saw red eyes slowly blink open. Smiling warmly down at him as he registered what he was seeing, she greeted him with a little wave. “G’morning, Raha!”

Surprised to see Rahela leaning over him, the Exarch hurriedly sat up, clearing his throat. “Good morning, Rahela. I wasn’t expecting you to come by, though that seems rather obvious from my—wait. Hold a moment.” Looking around at the blankets and pillows surrounding him, G’raha frowned, visibly annoyed. “Did Beq Lugg put me to sleep _again?”_

Folding her ears down in slight concern, Rahela asked, “Have they had to do that a lot?”

G’raha made a noise of frustration as he got to his feet, stretching his limbs and popping his joints. “More often than I care to say. As much as I appreciate the care and consideration I receive from you, Lyna, Chessamile, and everyone, continually being fussed over like a child can become slightly frustrating. I've already been asleep for more years than I’ve been awake…”

Standing up with him, Rahela leaned in close and bunted her forehead against his; an affectionate gesture between miqo’te. “And we appreciate you working so hard for us, but we’ve all already established that we don’t want you to kill yourself over this, silly.”

“I--” G’raha tried and failed to vocalize a retort, and instead he let out a defeated sigh. “Point taken. But enough about myself; what brings you here this morning?”

“Well, erm… ” Suddenly nervous now that the moment was at hand, Rahela drew away and clasped her hands in front. “There was something I wanted to ask. But let me start with this: are you qualified to officiate weddings?”

“Yes; in fact, I’ve performed most of the weddings held in the Crystarium in the city’s history. Though we do live fairly secular lives, especially when compared with those who live among the Nights’ Blessed, so the ceremonies do reflect that. Why do you ask? Is there someone who wishes me to officiate their marriage?”

“Erm, yeah, you could say that,” Rahela admitted, and got to the point. “I was talking with Thancred last night, and we decided to have a wedding here on the First before we go back. So I wanted to ask you… I wanted you to officiate for us, Raha.”

At this, a tiny little gasp escaped G’raha, and he stared wide-eyed at Rahela, completely astonished. In a small voice, he asked, “Truly…?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it,” she said, taking his hand, giving him the same smile that she did upon their reunion.

And just like then, G’raha was visibly overcome with emotion, eyes widening in shock, and then… Beaming with warmth, he laid his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “My dearest Rahela… I gladly accept this honor among honors. That you might get to celebrate such precious moments as these, in this world not your own… And that you wish for me, of all people, to play a part in it? It means more than I could possibly express with mere words.”

Nuzzling into him, Rah lightly teased her old friend, “Won’t you kinda need to, since you’ll be writing a speech for it?”

“Heh, touché,” he snorted. “I’ve put many such orations together over the decades, so I’m no stranger to such matters. I promise, I shall do my utmost to aid you in planning your wedding. And don’t worry, this won’t take away from my efforts to perfect the spirit vessel--”

Gently pushing out of his hug, Rahela interrupted, “You might wanna take that up with Lyna; I had a talk with her about your work on the way up here. She says that writing your officiant speech can be your ‘break’ from working on the vessel.”

At that, the Exarch frowned, and then sighed. “Why am I not surprised?”

Shrugging and giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “It’s not just you; it feels like everyone is telling everyone else to rest and not work so hard. That in itself is exhausting.”

“You’re the one who deserves a rest most of all right now; you _are_ the bride-to-be, after all--!”

 _“See,_ that’s exactly what I mean!”

“… Aye, these kinds of arguments _do_ tend to go in circles. It’s just as Cid used to say--”

Both Rahela and G’raha said in unison: “"' _No rest for the righteous’_ …””

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully i did a good job portraying lyna and exarch, orz


	3. The Honor Attendants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thancred and Rahela consult a pair who are unexpectedly knowledgeable about weddings.

After meandering through the Crystarium and asking certain individuals about their willingness to attend or be a participant in her wedding, Rahela made her way back to the Waters family apartment in the Pendants to inform them of her progress. Opening the door, she saw Alphinaud sitting at the table with Thancred, while on the other end of the room, Alisaie and Ryne were reading on the latter’s bed. All but Alphinaud noticed Rahela coming in; the elezen boy engrossed in looking over a long piece of parchment laying between himself and the groom-to-be. 

Thancred greeted, “Welcome back, Rah. Alphinaud and I were making our checklist of wedding tasks. And Alisaie happened to be in earshot when I told him about the wedding, so she invited herself and volunteered to help with the preparations. It seems that--”

“Allow me, Thancred.” Swinging her legs off the bed, Alisaie stood up and crossed the room as she explained, “You see, a rarely-discussed quirk of being part of an influential family in Sharlayan is that our parents took us to _a lot_ of weddings. Their fellow Studium alumni, relatives both near and distant, political marriages…” 

“Oh, wow,” Rahela responded, surprised. “Seeker tribes don’t really have weddings; or at least, mine didn’t. So the only weddings I’ve been to were for other adventurers…”

Scoffing at that, Alisaie explained further, “Oh, please. The Sanctum of the Twelve takes care of everything in Eternal Bonding ceremonies; if there are any behind-the-scenes blunders there, we never hear about them.” Her crooked smile slowly turned to a devilish grin as she went on, “But Sharlayan weddings? They’re practically infamous for how disastrous they can get when things go wrong. And trust me, there are so, _so many ways_ for them to go wrong.”

“O-Oh…” That was a bit unnerving for Rahela to hear. Mainly because Alisaie sounded so gleeful in saying so; clearly she found these unspeakable incidents far more amusing as a guest than the actual participants did…

Finally looking up from the checklist, Alphinaud reassured, “But you don’t need to worry, old friend; what my sister means to say is that, with all mishaps that we’ve seen in our youth, we know the warning signs look for, and how to circumvent them. She does _not_ actually want some sort of disaster to befall your wedding. _Right,_ Alisaie?”

“I’m just saying,” Alisaie crossed her arms and scowled at her brother. “I don’t want Rahela to have to deal with a melting cake. Or a frozen cake. Or floods, or hail storms. Or drunken party members, drunken relatives, drunken guests… Or, that time an ex-lover of the groom who wasn’t even invited _actually objected_ when the officiant said, ‘speak now or forever hold your peace?’ In song form? And then the groom started singing back and left the bride on the altar then and there? You remember that?”

Alphinaud cringed, and shook his head, muttering, “Gods, I wish I didn’t.”

Rahela and Thancred shared in a grimace before the groom-to-be cleared his throat and set the conversation back on track. _“Anyroad._ Alphinaud and Alisaie have both agreed to lend us their support. And just before you got in, I’d informed Urianger of what we were doing via linkpearl, and asked him to go fetch Y’shtola; unless there’s any food in that Ancient facility, she’s got to come back topside at some point. And finally, I get to ask: how did things go on your end?”

Clapping her hands together, Rah exclaimed, “Right! Exarch agreed to officiate! And Lyna agreed to be a bridesmaid!”

At this, Alisaie frowned, and stomped her foot towards the Warrior. “Wait—you asked _Lyna_ to be in the wedding party before any of us?”

“I, erm, sorry…!” Taking a step back, Rahela raised her hands as a placating gesture. “I ran into her on my way to see the Exarch! And I wanted her to be in the wedding party anyroad, so I thought, ‘might as well’…!”

Alisaie still pouted and crossed her arms, her go-to look of displeasure, but didn’t say anything else.

“Rahela?” Finally, Ryne spoke up; she sat up on her bed, hugging her pillow with a tinge of pink to her cheeks. “You didn’t happen to see Gaia around anywhere? Did you ask her…?”

“I did see her! And I did ask her!” Rahela reassured, with a confident fist pump. “And she said she would go, but she didn’t want to be in the actual wedding party. No responsibilities, she just wants to go in, eat cake, and get out… Though she did also say she might lend me some of her makeup, and take you shopping for some of your own--once you're feeling better, of course.”

“Okay,” Ryne chirped, making no attempt to hide the delight on her face. In fact, she hugged her pillow even tighter.

“I did also get a ring bearer; his name’s Taynor, I met him during the hunt for the Cardinal Virtues. In fact, all the other Virtue Hunters agreed to come, too!”

“That’s good, but we’ll still need to--” Alphinaud paused. “Hold on, I’ve been working on this list for nearly a bell now…”

Sensing that now was the time to lend Alphinaud an ear about the practical side of things, Rahela took her seat beside Thancred while the boy mumbled to himself as he double-checked the list.

Reading off the first item, Alphinaud gestured to Rahela, “Determine a date for the wedding.”

“Don’t have a solid date yet, but as soon as possible!”

He read the next item: “Choose and secure a venue.”

“The Exedra seems as good a place as any, for both the ceremony and the reception,” Thancred pointed out. “No doubt the Exarch will let us use it, and it’s certainly spacious enough.”

“Choose and secure a caterer to provide food and the cake.”

“The Second Serving, no question!” (Rahela and Thancred both heard a whispered _“Yes!”_ from the other side of the room, and saw Ryne make a joyful little motion in her bed.)

“And you’re still deciding on your wedding party, are you not?”

“We have a flower girl, a ring bearer, and one bridesmaid. But other than that, yeah, still deciding.”

“Your choices in honor attendants will be vitally important.” Alphinaud explained, “Whoever you both choose will need to be someone you trust intimately; someone whom you consider to be your best friend.”

_For Rahela, that easily narrowed it down to one of the twins. But which one? She didn’t want to have to choose who meant more to her…_

“They’ll need to play a major part in the organization of both the ceremony, and various events leading up to it. They’ll be considered the leader of the bridesmaids and groomsmen, and they’ll need to give a speech during the reception…” 

_Oh, well, in that case…_

“But it’s not all administrative work, because in addition to that, they’ll also need to serve as your right hand, and actively aid in the legwork of the preparations.”

_Darnit, that muddled the choice again… But wait..._

“Hey, Alph--”

“Most find the multitude of responsibilities quite daunting, so it has to be someone you find to be trustworthy and reliable—“

“Alphy!”

“Erm, yes?”

“Will you and Alisaie be my Man and Maid of Honor?”

Both twins stared in shock at the suggestion, before Alphinaud made a little “Ah—?” noise.

“What? Is that allowed?” Alisaie looked to her brother, expecting him to give her something that at least resembled an answer. “Alphinaud, is that allowed?”

“I, I mean,” Alphinaud gawped before registering the question, before furrowing his brow to think about it. “I suppose it’s not _unheard of_ to split the duties of the position between two people. And working together would play to our strengths; I in a logistical role while Alisaie handles the footwork…”

“Well, that too,” Rahela admitted. “But more importantly, I want you both to be my honor attendants because of the first thing that Alphinaud said: that it should be my best friend. Someone that I love and trust like family. And for me, that’s both of you. I could never choose one over the other.”

Alisaie’s mouth drew into a thin line while her face turned nearly as red as her outfit. She then pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a groan. “... You know, there are always people commenting about how ‘you can never say no to us’ and the like, but they never consider that the reverse is also true.” She then looked up, and gave her dearest friend a fond look. “But, in all seriousness: I was a bit perplexed at your decision to have a wedding at a time like this; but when Thancred said you wanted to use this opportunity to celebrate our time in Norvrandt, I understood. And, well… it means more than you know. There wasn’t exactly much to celebrate in the year I spent here before you arrived, so I’ll be glad to make at least some happy memories before we go home. That is to say, _‘yes,_ Rahela, I _will_ be your Maid of Honor.’”

“Alisaiiie…!”

Alphinaud, for his part, beamed at his sister, and looked back to Rahela. “I can only concur with Alisaie. This is, if you’ll pardon the pun, an honor; one that Alisaie and I will both strive to be worthy of.”

“Awww…!” Getting up and moving around to the other side of the table, Rah took a twin in each arm and hugged both of them. “You two, you’re the best…!”

“Nngh…” A blushing Alisaie struggled mightily to keep herself from smiling, and patted the arm around her shoulders. “Yes, yes, Rah, we love you, too.”

Clearing his throat and loosening his collar as Rahela pulled away and returned to her chair, Alphinaud addressed the groom-to-be. “What about you, Thancred? Will you have two honor attendants as well?”

Sighing and leaning his cheek into his hand, Thancred admitted, “I was feeling a fair bit torn myself on whether I should ask Urianger or Y’shtola, but if you can have two honor attendants, then I don’t see why I should make anyone miss out on the fun.”

A wicked smirk crossing her face, Alisaie pointed out, “Even though that means they’ll both be writing a Best Man speech for you?”

At the mention of speeches, Thancred’s cool expression turned to one of horrified realization: Urianger and Y’shtola, two people who’ve known him for most of his life, two people who had a _perfect_ memory for _every_ embarrassing thing he’d ever done, two people who loved few things more than _reminding_ him about every embarrassing thing he’d ever done… Teaming up to deliver a _speech_ about him, _in public, on his wedding day._ “Oh gods, can I change my answer?” A beat, and no response. He slumped back in his chair with a groan. “Nnngh, I suppose not… Well, I’ll be sure to let the Second Serving know what the main course will be for the wedding feast.”

“And what would that be?”

“Whole Roasted Groom…”

“Aww, poor lovey…” With a pitying smile, Rah patted her fiancé’s back and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Maybe one of them will say no? … Yeah, no, they’ll probably both say yes.”

“If it’s any consolation, Thancred,” Alisaie offered, “I’ll make sure to redress the balance by talking about Rahela’s own embarrassing incidents.”

Rah’s smile fell away instantly and she looked at the young elezen. “--Wait, what?”

Her grin only got wider. “Like that time you decided to experiment with the Kojin’s Blessing--”

“That was to cheer you up!”

“And it worked--now the story can cheer up everyone else when they hear it.”

"Alisaie," Alphinaud reprimanded, " _'Drunken, inappropriate, or overly critical honor attendant speeches'_ was on the list of things we agreed to watch out for! We're supposed to be _helping_ them!"

She only shrugged, "We can workshop it with Urianger and Y'shtola once they get here."

At least now the bride- and groom-to-be were sharing in their dismay; both of them hanging their heads and sighing in unison, all indications pointed towards a rough reception…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there IS an actual levequest where "Sharlayan marriage" is used as shorthand for a disaster; or more specifically, "much suffering that culminates in charming offspring and at least one death." There might be another way to take that, but I like to imagine the idea that weddings in Sharlayan are just super fucking cursed. All the horror stories that the twins mention in this chapter and will mention in future chapters are all based on stories from r/AskReddit wedding-related threads. Mainly because, to gather references, I ended up watching at least, like, two hours worth of compilation videos from those threads.


	4. The Branch of the Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last of the wedding party is decided, and who will be walking Rahela down the aisle…

The next few hours were spent ironing out several of the details. Urianger and Y’shtola dropped by, Thancred asked them to be his Best Man and Best Woman, and they agreed. Alphinaud would get in touch with Katliss and see what aid the Crystalline Mean could provide in the preparations, while Alisaie would speak with Hanji-Fae about catering and baking a cake for the reception. In the meantime, the betrothed were told to go back to thinking about the remaining members of the wedding party.

After racking her brain, Rahela settled on her other two bridesmaids; better yet, they were both present in the Crystarium, so she could easily ask them in person. 

“So I’m going to talk to Phyna and Cyl-- er, Cyella.” _Smooth, Rahela._ “What about you? Have you decided on your three groomsmen yet?”

Thancred leaned back in his chair, and pondered. “First and foremost is definitely Magnus, no question about it. And since you’ve got Lyna, I’ve a mind to invite one of my own friends from the Crystarium guard; his name’s Lamlyn.”

“Oh, I think I met him! He said something about how you taught him how to play Triple Triad.”

Resting his chin on his knuckles, the gunbreaker half-smiled in reminiscence; “Aye, he asked me for advice on approaching someone he admired, and I thought that, since it worked so well for us, Triple Triad would make for a fine icebreaker. So we play whenever we have the time to get together. Which, admittedly, isn’t often, but I digress.”

It had felt like a lifetime since those days of her working as a waitress in the Quicksand; Thancred would visit her, and they would play in between her shifts, laughing and bonding over the simple card game…

“Mm,” Rah nodded. “And your third?”

Again, Thancred went thoughtful, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. “I never had the chance to really think on it until now, but now I’m forced to reckon with the truth… The truth being that I… haven’t made very many real friends here.” He sagged his shoulders, and admitted, “I’m drawing a complete blank.”

“Really…?”

“I suppose I could ask Runar, Moren, Kai-Shirr, Yalfort, or Lewrey, and any one of those would be acceptable…”

“… But they’re more acquaintances than actual friends, at least for you?”

“That, or they’re closer with other people than with me.”

“Hmm…”

“Or maybe--” His eyes flashed as though he’d remembered something. And then he looked down again. “No…”

“Did you think of someone?”

“Back when I was getting accustomed to this place and finding my bearings, the first thing I did was try to procure some new weapons; after all, I didn’t have any on my person when the Exarch brought me here.” _Rahela caught an Echo flash of said event; where he was sitting dazed and naked in the Ocular. She felt her face warming up._ “So he arranged a meeting with a smith from the Crystalline Mean to commission something for me. The smith didn’t strike me as particularly confident, and he said he was more accustomed to making kettles than weapons. But he asked me why I fought, and why I wanted something as complex as a gunblade, so… I told him my story; and upon hearing it the smith was struck with inspiration, and set to work immediately…”

\--Wait, kettles? A blacksmith being struck with inspiration before creating a weapon? Where had she heard that before?

Thancred got back to his feet and moved to a mounted rack on the wall, upon which his gunblade sat while it wasn’t in use. “And in no time at all, he had crafted this beauty, and named it ‘Lionheart,’ supposedly after my,” He cleared his throat. “My _‘devoted and courageous spirit.’_ ”

A smile crossed Rah’s face at hearing that. “Awww…”

He shrugged. “Unfortunately, I never saw him after that; Katliss said he vanished not long after he finished my commission, and that nobody’s heard from him since. But she didn’t seem too bothered by it, and that he was something of an eccentric.”

Ears perking up in recognition, Rahela remembered hearing that part of the story as well. “Wait a second… What was this smith’s name?”

Quirking a brow, Thancred answered, “Grenoldt. Why?”

“Ahhhh!” Rah sprung to her feet and yelled out, startling both him and Ryne, who’d been absorbed in her reading and not really listening up until then. “I saw Grenoldt! Back when we were in the Tempest, he was the one who made the Ondo lamp!”

Staring at her, dumbfounded, Thancred asked, “Seriously? You mean all this time, he’s been living in the _ocean?”_

“That’s right! And after he finished with the Ondo lamp, he made Khatvanga for me,” she said, pulling out the black mage staff in question in order to show him. And gesturing to the black and grey mage robe she wore at that very moment, she added, “Along with this coat!”

Wrapping his head around all of that--that the man who made him his weapon and then vanished for years, had been found by his fiancee at the bottom of the ocean, and then made both her own weapon and an outfit--Thancred had to sigh at the absurdity of it all. “… I’d wondered where you got those,” he remarked with a shake of his head. “Well, I suppose I know who to ask to be my third groomsman, now. That’ll be an interesting letter, to say the least.”

“Perfect!” Rah said, clasping her hands together in delight. “So assuming they all say yes, that means we almost have a full wedding party!”

“What roles do we still have left to fill, again?”

“I still need a, uh…” She frowned. “A ‘father of the bride’ to walk me down the aisle.”

Remembering that Rahela hadn’t heard from her birth father since she was four years old and on another world entirely, Thancred winced in sympathy. “Ah… I see the problem. Any ideas? Anyone suitably parental?”

“Yes, actually, but…”

“‘But’ what?”

 _She didn’t know if she needed Feo Ul’s blessing before marrying Thancred, and she kept forgetting to ask them about it; and now she was afraid they would think she’d deliberately not told them, and they’d be angry with her… again._ “I wanted to save the best for last: my most wonderful, caring, generous, erm… _iz nefis?_ ”

Immediately recognizing the Fae-speak and who she was calling for, Thancred’s eyes widened, and he backed away in the direction of the window to give Rahela the necessary space. A tense silence hung in the air while all present waited, watched, and listened for that familiar voice, that unmistakable brogue…

_“Auuugh… And here I was, thinkin’ that you’d finally learned!”_

Aaaand there it was. Rahela braced herself for a lecture as an orb of light appeared inside the room, floating and circling around her until finally, Feo Ul materialized with their customary twirl. Immediately they flitted into her face, making her reflexively lean away from the tiny scowling pixie.

“H-hi, Feo,” Rah stammered, and offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry I forgot to ask for your blessing before I got engaged?”

“That’s not what I’m mad about, you silly sapling! Now, if the metal-wielding mortal over there had asked for _your_ hand, that would have been quite a different story; but _you_ asked for _his_ hand, and you don’t need to ask my permission for anything.”

“Wait, so— If Thancred proposed to me, he would have needed your blessing, but since it was me who proposed to him, we _don’t_ need it?” Rahela wasn’t sure how much sense that made, but maybe it did in the pixie’s mind; whatever the case, she wouldn’t complain. “Then… what _are_ you mad about?”

“That I wasn’t the first one that my precious little flower turned to for help when she decided to have her special day! I had so many gifts in mind to give you, but you kept me waiting for hours and hours, and I was so afraid you’d forgotten about your branch all over again!”

Apologetically, Rahela folded her ears down and closed her eyes. She said, “I’m sorry…”

A brief pause before she felt a tiny hand laid on her cheek. She opened her eyes again, and saw Feo’s temper had faded. “But you know as well as I do that I could never deny you. Especially not after such a sweet, sincere apology like that! Speaking in Fae, confessing that you were holding off on asking me because you were ‘saving the best for last…’ Just wait until we’re done, my sapling; I’ll spoil you rotten for this special occasion, see if I don’t!”

Relieved to see that her branch wouldn’t reject her for this slight, Rahela returned their smile. “Thank you so much, Feo! It wouldn’t have felt right if you weren’t a part of this! But, I was wondering, have you ever been to a mortal wedding? How much do you know about them?”

“Oh, aye, I’ve seen plenty!” Feo Ul declared, twirling with pride. “And I know all the things you mortals do to invite good fortune! And worry not, your branch shall see that your union is a joyous one!”

“That’s great! I’ll--” But then Rahela remembered, she hadn’t come to ask Feo to be her tutor on the wedding customs of the First. She corrected herself; “Wait, actually, I almost forgot; there was one specific thing I wanted to ask you to do.”

Feo Ul canted their head in curiosity, “Yes, sapling?”

“When the actual wedding ceremony happens, I want you to walk me down the aisle; I think they call it, ‘giving the bride away’…?”

The pixie canted their head, looking mildly confused by the turn-of-phrase. “What? You want me to _‘give you away?’”_ For a split second, Rahela was afraid that she’d offended them somehow, but they only laughed. “That’s a rather silly way of putting it! As if the metal-wielder weren’t mine, too!” 

At that, Thancred, having kept a respectful distance from the pair until now, looked up and frowned. “Begging your pardon? Since when am I ‘yours?’ I don’t recall making a pact with you, or any pixie.”

“But, we’re still Rahela’s family.” Without anyone noticing, Ryne had gotten out of bed and had been watching the conversation. A smile warmed her face as she confirmed, “So Feo Ul cares enough for us to consider us ‘theirs’ too, right?”

Flitting up to nestle between the miqo’te’s ears, Feo Ul pat Rahela’s hair. “Exactly, _snae ryne!_ I told as much to old Bismarck; any family, friend, or love of hers is a sapling of mine! And it would be silly to give one sapling away to another.”

Though still looking a bit uncertain about being a pixie’s charge by proxy, Thancred shrugged in acceptance. “Then in that case, if that phrase is the only thing that is giving you pause, then you only need ignore it,” Thancred suggested. “I’m not especially fond of the phrase either. So if you _do_ choose to walk Rahela down the aisle, instead think of it as, ah…” He took a pause to think of something appropriate. “… Replanting your saplings closer to each other, that we might grow and entwine together?”

Silence hung in the air for a brief moment before Rahela broke into a smile, charmed by the metaphor he presented, a little giggle escaped her.

Thancred grunted, and scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t laugh, I know I’m rusty with my prose.”

“No, it’s sweet!” She reassured, her smile only getting wider. 

“Well, if you think tree metaphors are sweet, then just you wait until our vows.”

“--Oh, right, I’ve gotta do that. That, plus the invitations, and the dress, and the food, and--” Her reciting of her mental to-do list was interrupted by Feo Ul ducking their head into Rahela’s vision. “--Ah!”

“Don’t worry your pretty head over the details,” the pixie said. “That’s the first mistake brides make, is worrying too much. With your lovely branch here to lend you their strength, I hereby swear on _Il Mheg_ that no misfortune shall befall your happy day! And that includes walking you down the aisle!”

Wishing desperately wishing she could hug the pixie without crushing them, Rahela settled instead for taking their hand between her thumb and forefinger, beaming at them. “Thank you, Feo! It means so much…!”

Feo nodded before righting themselves and looking straight at Thancred. And their voice took on a suddenly menacing tone. “In fact, I must begin by correcting a rather grave oversight…”

“Wait, wha--?”

The Faerie King leapt off of Rahela’s head, and flew circles around her, leaving her dizzily trying to follow the sparkling motes of light left behind in their wake. Then, just as her gaze caught up, she saw Feo Ul raising their hand… and thrust downwards!

A _flash_ of scintillating light filled the room, and all present flinched at the stinging in their eyes. But the pain passed about as fast as it happened, and when Rahela’s vision faded back in, nothing seemed different whatsoever. However, once Thancred reopened his eyes, he _definitely_ noticed something different, and his expression went from shock, to _anger._

“RAH!” He yelled, making Rahela and Ryne nearly jump out of their skins. But then, with an accusatory look towards Feo Ul, he snapped, “Where did you send her? What sort of sick prank is this?!”

Feo Ul put their hands on their hips, offended at the very idea. “This is no prank, and I didn’t _send_ her anywhere!”

“Then where is she?!”

Ryne and Rahela glanced at each other, equally confused. Did Thancred think that Feo Ul had made Rahela disappear?

“Thancred!” Ryne called out, getting the gunbreaker’s attention. “What are you talking about? Rahela’s right where she’s been standing this whole time!”

His eyes flashed in Rahela’s direction, looking right at her but not seeing her; with a furrowed brow he wordlessly asked, _‘What are you talking about?’_

Rahela stepped closer to him, speaking up and saying, “Thancred, love, I’m okay. Do you not see me?”

He jumped, and then said, “Wh-- oh,” quickly realizing that hearing his fiancee’s voice confirmed that she had _not,_ in fact, been snatched away by the pixie(s). Cautiously, Thancred lifted his hand and pushed it forward just enough for his fingertips to collide with Rah’s forehead. “A-ah, there you are. So, if Ryne can see you, but I can’t, then that means… Feo Ul made you invisible, but only to me?”

“Your recklessness gave me no choice, I’m afraid!” Feo declared, thrusting a tiny, scolding finger into Thancred’s face. “What were you thinking, you blimming steel-swinging buffoon?! Don’t you know it’s bad luck for the groom to look upon his bride before she’s to walk down the aisle?! _”_

He stood baffled by the accusation until he yelled, visibly exasperated, “That only applies to the actual wedding day, when she’s in her dress!”

“Are you married yet? NO! Then it’s before the wedding! I’ll not take any chances with my most precious sapling’s special day!”

Thancred scowled and opened his mouth to argue further, but Rahela stopped him by laying her hands on his chest. “It’s okay, love,” she reassured him. “I… don’t think they’re going to budge on this.”

Casting a dubious expression down to where he imagined her face to be, Thancred asked, “So, what, you’re fine with being completely invisible to me until the ceremony?”

“I mean…” She sagged her shoulders and made a discontent noise, but went on, “It’s not _ideal,_ but you can still hear me! And touch me! So we can work with this! And better that than, uh… Upsetting the Fae King.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, Thancred conceded, “Ugh… Fair point.”

“It’s alright!” Rahela insisted, giving him a light punch on the chest, in what she hoped would be more reassurance. “We got this!”

… She hoped so, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feo ul confirmed branchzilla


	5. Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rahela plans her wedding, and has four treasures to find…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for the role quest capstone “Shadow Walk With Me.” If you haven’t finished all four role quests + the capstone/don’t want to be spoiled, then please proceed with caution.

With the remainder of the wedding party decided, the bride- and groom-to-be went back to their checklist while Feo Ul sat Ryne in front of a mirror on the other end of the room and set about braiding her hair into various potential styles to wear as her mother’s flower girl.

As endearing as the sight might have been at any other time, Thancred couldn’t help but continue to focus on his _lack_ of being able to see Rahela. And on the stool at the table that scooted out on its own, and on the parchment on the table that suddenly began floating. That would take getting used to, but ‘invisible fiancée’ wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to have to get used to.

“Thancred?” Came the disembodied (or at least, disembodied from his perspective) voice of Rahela. “I know, it’s weird, but this is just all the more reason to have the wedding as soon as possible! So let’s get planning!”

_So the two sat back down and reread their list of tasks; even the boring ones…_

“Décor… Lighting… Flowers… the look of the invitations… Transportation for guests…”

“Do you want to just wait until we hear back from the Mean to talk about all this?”

“Sure.”

_… And considered who to invite…_

Thancred had to get out a new, _long_ piece of parchment because the guest list, of course, reached ridiculous proportions. He grimaced, and grumbled, “Good gods… If I may echo Lord Chai’s words spoken some time ago: _this is just about everyone in bally Norvrandt._ ”

She could only grin. “Like he said, we have a lot of friends!”

 _… Who_ **_not_ ** _to invite…_

“I don’t know who this ‘Eidith’ woman is, but you seem to feel rather strongly about not wanting her at the wedding, so I shall respect that and not ask,” Thancred mused, mostly to himself, as he wrote on the parchment. “And for dwarves, you’re only inviting Tholls, and no Goggs?”

“Absolutely not,” Rahela growled. “Everything the Tholls say about them is true, the Goggs are absolutely wretched.” Well, no, the Dig Site Chief and his wife were nice enough, but those weren’t the Goggs she was worried over. No, she didn’t want to risk _them_ finding out. Hells, she would rather invite that murderous android boy over _those insufferable little gremlins._

Taking her word for it Thancred nodded, “All Goggs are blacklisted, understood.” He made a note of ‘NO GOGGS.’ (or at least, that’s what Rahela estimated that he wrote, she couldn’t read Vrandtic.) Then, he frowned. “… And I’m assuming that ‘Ardbert’ is also blacklisted.”

Rahela all but scowled at the mere reminder of him. “Obviously,” she muttered. “But, if Elidibus finds out about the wedding, I don’t know what he’ll do, or how we can keep him away without worrying anyone…”

Thancred leaned his chin on his hand, contemplative. “Maybe we can tell the guard that Ardbert isn’t allowed at the wedding because of some petty squabble that they wouldn’t look into. For example, maybe he insulted your mother and you had a bad fight over it; you’re still angry with him, and that’s why he’s not welcome.” He shrugged, and commented, “It’s not entirely _un_ true, in a manner of speaking.”

“That… _could_ work, I guess…”

_… What to serve, and what not to serve…_

“Hmmm…”

Leaning back to sit the stool on its hind legs, Thancred was deep in thought. When the topic of beverages arose, he had to address the marid in the room as delicately as possible. “By Alphinaud’s estimates, at least seventy-five percent of disastrous incidents that happen during weddings involve heavy drinking. And I know all too well your aversion to alcohol in the first place, so it’s perfectly within your right to have a dry wedding. As long as you acknowledge and accept that some of your guests will be displeased with this.” 

“Nngh…” Rahela groaned aloud and sagged her shoulders. Even before the incidents at the Bloody Banquet and the Ishgardian-Dravanian peace conference that involved poisoning of drinks, she’d never been one for alcohol, and always had negative associations for it. But as much as she disliked it, she knew she was in the minority. “As much as I want a dry wedding, we’re going to have dwarves there. And I don’t think dwarves are culturally allowed to be sober. Giott, especially; if I know her, she’ll throw a tantrum and call everyone in earshot a hobgoblin’s--” She caught herself just before she could directly quote Giott, realizing she didn’t want to use that kind of language around Ryne. “… A hobgoblin’s unmentionables.”

“Well…” Thancred went contemplative again, and mused, “We do have a fair few barkeeps on the invite list. Glynard, Theva, and Anfrigg; they likely have a more professional opinion about how to keep disorderly drinkers in line.”

The reminder of their professions sparked an idea in Rahela’s mind that retrospectively seemed rather obvious: “Oh! We can ask them to bartend!”

_… The look and flavor of the cake…_

“I do like silver and purple for the colors, but I dunno… Would four tiers of cake be too much? And I like frosting, so there would be some layers, too, but I don’t wanna give the bakers too much trouble…”

“Well, you know you can bring it up with Hanji-Fae once we meet with her. But considering…” He trailed off, held up the comically long parchment full of names, and gestured to it, “ _This_ is our guest list? And knowing your sweet tooth? I’d say the more cake, the better.”

 _‘The more cake, the better.’_ He raised a compelling argument. Well, hopefully the four differently-flavored tiers she wanted to represent the ‘stages’ of their relationship wouldn’t prove too difficult for the bakers in the Second Serving…

Thancred added, “I mean, the Exarch is footing the bill for all of this, is he not? Might as well make the most of it.”

Later on, Alisaie and Alphinaud both returned, carrying written confirmation that both the Second Serving and the Crystalline Mean would lend their support to what they reportedly called, ‘the Wedding of the Century.’ Rahela’s face went bright scarlet, shocked that her and Thancred’s ceremony could carry _that much_ significance. At least, until Alisaie commented that that was simply due to the fact that, for obvious reasons, next to none of the weddings of the last century had not been as much of a cause for widespread celebration as the union of the Warrior of Darkness and the Guardian of the Oracle.

… Well, it made a great deal more sense when put in that way. But even then, it was still intimidating, with so much to do and so many ways for it to go wrong…

But Thancred was quick to reassure her with a hand up and down her back, (He felt around her shoulders, just to be sure) and reiterated that with so many hands on deck, she had plenty of support, and they could take matters one at a time if it got too stressful.

Rahela thought about it for a moment, and then decided the first thing to do should be to actually get in touch with their selected bridesmaids and groomsmen and make sure that they were actually available. Thancred would write his letters to Magnus, Lamlyn, and Grenoldt; and Rahela would head out and verbally ask Phyna and Cyella.

But before Rah could leave, Feo Ul paused their experimentation with Ryne’s hair and flitted to their sapling, to whisper something in her ear… A rhyming riddle…

“I see…” Underneath the orange tree just outside the Catenaries, Phyna of Fanow ruminated over Rahela’s explanation of outsider marriage customs. Rahela had mistakenly opened their conversation with the news of her betrothal, assuming the Viis would automatically understand what that meant. But, at least she understood the concept when explained to her. “Though many in Fanow do of course form lifelong romantic attachments, I’ve never seen any such unions be formalized as you describe.”

“It’s been a bit of a learning process for me, too,” Rahela admitted. “The weddings here are _just_ different enough from weddings in my homeland for there to be some confusion.” After this, she would never take the Sanctum of the Twelve for granted once it was time for the Source wedding. They provided everything from the decorations, the officiants, the cake, the invitations… “But, I do like the part where people that are close to the couple get to be part of the ceremony. And that’s why I came to you. Because one thing a bride can have is a few of her friends standing next to her while it’s happening. And I was wondering if you could stand next to me? I mean, I dunno if it’ll help with your idea to expand Fanow’s horizons; but you’ll get to learn all you please about what weddings are like, and Lyna will be a bridesmaid too, since you seem to be a fan of hers--”

“Absolutely, Rahela!” Phyna half-shouted, her leporine ears perking straight up in enthusiasm. “I would be honored!” 

“Oh! Uh, great!” Rah gave a thumbs-up to Phyna. Was it the gesture of friendship that moved her to say yes, the desire to learn more about weddings, or the chance to see more of Lyna and meet more city-dwelling Viis? Well, whatever the case… “Welcome aboard!”

Her smile fading from delight to just bittersweet, Phyna remarked, “I only wish my dear sisters could partake in the ally of Ronka’s wedding as well…”

“Ah…” Rahela leaned her chin on her hand, similarly disappointed. “I know Almet, Uimet, Cymet, Lanille, and Ciuna can’t leave the Greatwood, even just for this. Disappointing, but it can’t be helped. But, I _am_ planning on sending invitations to them anyroad, just to let them know that it’s happening. So they can send their well-wishes--or presents, if they like--even if they can’t be here in person.”

“That’s a relief to hear; they will be glad to know you still think of them,” Phyna agreed. “And our other friends of the Greatwood?”

“Of course! A bunch of the Night’s Blessed are invited, and I wouldn’t forget Quinfort and Valan. The Great Serpent of Ronka will be happy to see them again.” Rahela had been wondering where it had gotten to, but it seemed to be fond of the pair. “I’ll be sure to invite Chaqurl Qhotl and Qitarl Natl, too. And I’ll tell them all to come a few days early so I can send them all to Spagyrics and make sure they’re okay, just to be safe.”

Phyna nodded in understanding. “And is there anything else you would require of me?”

“Not right now, no; but when there is, I’ll find you, so stick around, okay?” Phyna nodded, and Rahela gave another thumbs up, before she added, “Oh, but! Before I forget: there’s one thing from Fanow that I would really like to have in the wedding…”

“Yes?”

“The blue flowers that grow in the Wild Fete. Brides carry a bouquet with them for the ceremony, so I wanted the flowers from Fanow to be the flowers that I carry with me. So when I write to Chieftainess Almet, I’ll be sure to ask for her to send some.”

_She had gotten the idea when Feo Ul whispered their rhyme into her ear; a rhyme telling her to find ‘four treasures’ to bring good fortune in the marriage._

_“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue…”_

_The ‘blue’ part gave her the idea almost immediately; the flowers surrounding Fanow were as blue as blue could get. And more importantly…_

_She remembered one Viis telling her that the blue flowers--’Forget-Me-Nots,’ to use their name on the Source--symbolized remembrance of those who had departed… She couldn’t think of any flowers more appropriate to pay tribute to those who’d given everything to ensure the continued existence of both her, the Scions, and two entire worlds…_

_And on that note…_

“So… you’re _sure_ you’re okay with it? I was half-expecting you to say no; and I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I heard people are calling this ‘the Wedding of the Century,’ so I can only imagine being the Warrior of Darkness’ bridesmaid would put you in the public eye in a way you might not want…”

Cyella--or, Cylva, as she was once called a century ago--crossed her arms, putting her weight on one leg. With a wan smile, the elf assured, “It’s good of you to keep that in mind; but no, I’ll be fine. Anyone who would try to look into ‘Cyella’s’ past wouldn’t find anything of note, and certainly not anything of the Shadowkeeper. So if your worry is that my being your bridesmaid might result in my identity being exposed, then fret not.”

Uneasily, Rahela rubbed the back of her neck, and looked down on the Wandering Stairs from the overhead walkway. “I just wanted to be careful. Some people might get suspicious about why I chose you, especially considering I’m not exactly a regular here…”

“Aye, about the only drink I’ve ever seen you order here is milk; much to Giott’s displeasure…”

“Which is why I’m asking you and not her. And for the record, I _do_ like other drinks; I go to the Second Serving all the time with Ryne, and they have some really good coffee.” Or at least, iced coffee mixed with so much milk, sugar, and other flavorings that it no longer tasted like coffee… “But back to my original point; thank you for agreeing to this. And I might need some help if Elidibus tries anything at my wedding. But, hopefully he won’t.” 

Turning pensive at the mention of Elidibus, Cyella glanced to Rahela, and sighed. “Alas. If there were anything I could do to fight him, to chase him out of Ardbert’s body, I would gladly have done so before. As I told you, my days of fighting are long behind me.”

“I see…” Rahela had heard a few things about the Shadowkeeper, and what _‘Cylva’_ was capable of back then, and she was curious to know if she could still do them, but… Those questions were for a more personal purpose, and best saved for another time. “Well, I’ll take precautions to make sure he’s not allowed in in the first place. So the only thing you’ll need to do is wear something nice on the day of. And there’ll be something called a ‘doe party’ for me, my honor attendants, and bridesmaids if you’re interested in that.”

Eyes closing, Cyella remained contemplative until Rahela saw a bittersweet smile cross her face. “It’s been so long since our last night together, before I turned against them…” She reminisced, “Reveling and drinking with my dear friends like nothing was wrong… Yes, I believe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Well, I don’t know how Ardbert and the others used to drink, but I doubt things will get _too_ crazy. My two honor attendants are minors, and Captain Lyna is one of my bridesmaids. Also, one other thing I was wondering…” Rahela paused, and realized that Cyella might need context for her request. “… Well, let me preface this by saying that my fae patron told me I’m supposed to acquire four things before the wedding; and one of those things is ‘something old.’”

“Ahhh,” Cyella nodded, a look of understanding crossing her face. “I remember fetch quests. My sympathies.”

“I don’t mind doing it,” Rah said, “But I thought that you were probably the best person to talk to about finding ‘something old.’ So, my question was… Do you have anything of Ardbert’s from back then?”

“I’m afraid not,” the elf sighed, shaking her head with a sagging of her shoulders. “Besides my old armor and sword, I don’t have any belongings or keepsakes from back then. At least, none that would suit the occasion. And if anyone has what Ardbert was carrying on his person when he died…”

Immediately understanding, Rahela frowned. “I see. Can’t be helped, then.” Slowly, she lifted her hand and pressed it to her heart. As if to make sure the real Ardbert was still there. “Still, I want to have one happy day before we settle things with him. So, thank you for agreeing to be part of it.”

Cyella smiled, seeming to approve. “The pleasure is mine, Rahela.”

“We can meet up later, I’ll find you.” 

As soon as she took an aetheryte to the Crystalline Mean, Rahela was swarmed with workers offering their congratulations. True to Alphinaud’s word, each Facet offered their own way of helping, at least once Katliss managed to get them to talk one at a time. Iola had pledged to forge the rings herself; Rahela said she would get back to her on that with Thancred present, but thanked her profusely. Bethric and Qeshi-Rae told her that Alphinaud had expressly forbade any animals from participating in the ceremony and asked her if she could confirm what he said; she did so, firmly stating no amaro in the ceremony proper, and _definitely_ no samiel. Frithrik offered to aid the Second Serving in providing the reception with food, specifically fish; Rahela graciously accepted, knowing that the caterers would need all the help they could get, feeding a guest list a malm long. Thiuna asked if either Rahela or Thancred owned any heirlooms that needed restoring; she said no, but they might still need the aid of Cherished Memories in other ways…

_“Music?”_

“Yeah,” Rahela nodded, beaming at Thiuna from across the worktop. “I know you’re wonderful on the lute, but I was curious if there were any other instruments you knew how to play? Or if you know anyone who does?”

“Well…” Thiuna thought to herself for a moment, and then answered, “Master Harig did once restore an old piano and some sheet music from the Crystal Tower, and I played it to make sure it sounded right.”

Hearing this, Rah was slightly confused about why there would be a piano in the Crystal Tower, until she remembered that the top floor was some sort of theater.

“So,” Thiuna went on, “I suppose I _can_ play at a passable level _,_ but I’m not skilled by any stretch of the imagination. But you’d probably be better off hiring a professional musician for your wedding…”

“You can do it!” Rahela urged, punching her open hand in a gesture of encouragement. “If you’re not confident, then all you need to do is practice and improve! And if it helps, there’s only a few songs that you need to learn for when everyone's walking down the aisle. For the music for when we’re at the reception, I was thinking I’d play songs on an orchestrion.”

Thiuna seemed to consider Rahela’s advice, but at the mention of orchestrions, her ears perked up. “Oh, hold on!” Turning to her right, she beckoned to her faithful assistant and companion: Noddy the Allagan Recording Node. “Noddy, come here!”

The hovering ball’s circuits lit up at being called, and it floated towards the two women and buzzed happily. “Present, Thiuna!”

Thiuna explained to Rahela with a smile, “Believe it or not, Noddy can actually play music! It always plays nice, relaxing music while I’m working; helps me focus and not get too stressed. Like my own miniature orchestrion! Right, Noddy?”

The node blipped, spun in place, and buzzed, “Affirmative. I acquired a number of musical playlists from various terminals discovered in the Crystal Tower. Playlists are titled as follows: _‘Mending Melodies - Phases I-XIV.’ ‘Misera Magitek - The Officially Definitive Superior NTS Mixtape.’_ _‘Biggs and Blanlihta Wedding.’_ ” 

—Oh. Rahela expected the Allagan node to have music from the time of the Empire, but… As much as she wanted to know about the Ironworks of the erased timeline, she’d have to ask another time. She would definitely remember that name, though, _Blanlihta…_ “Do any of those playlists have a song called, ‘Twilight Over Thanalan’?”

Noddy, and responded, “Searching music library… Affirmative. Found song in ‘ _Biggs and Blanlihta Wedding_.’ Now playing ‘Twilight Over Thanalan.’”

Thiuna and Rahela listened carefully, and from the node there came the unmistakable opening strains of the song; the notes of the piano rising and falling, sweet and yet steady, like a lullaby… Then it picked up, just enough to swell the heart in time with the music, but still keeping the same rhythm. 

“Oh…” Glancing back to Thiuna, Rahela could see a peaceful smile on the Viis’ face. “It’s beautiful… I know I’ve never heard it before, but it feels like I’ve known it my whole life.”

“Right?” Rahela could never explain why, but the song felt so naturally suited for her and Thancred; it was the song that played in her heart whenever she was close with him… She felt her cheeks warming up again. “This is what I want to walk down the aisle to. It just feels… right.” They listened together for a few more moments, and Rah cleared her throat. “--Hem. Anyroad, I have the orchestrion roll for this song, and I’d be happy to lend it to you, so you can read the sheet music and learn how to play it.”

With a half-smile, Thiuna nodded. “If you have that much faith in me to do justice to this song, then I’ll give it my all.”

The melody of the piano soon began to fade out as the song ended; Noddy proceeded to the next track, and…

The slightly strained voice of an old woman then came from Noddy’s speakers: _“Hello, old friend.”_

Thiuna jumped in surprise to hear a recording of spoken words on this playlist; Rahela’s heart froze as she immediately recognized the woman’s voice. Though the audio of the message was slightly grainy, and despite the very clear agedness of it, the kind and melodic lilt gave it away.

_“Sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding in person. Don’t worry about me; as much as I miss the others, I won’t be joining them quite yet. But I thought I’d send you a special gift along with my well-wishes: an old recording of the first love song I ever wrote. It’s about the first time I met my darling Niellefresne… But don’t worry, it’s a happy song!”_

Rahela stepped closer to the node broadcasting the message, as though it was the person who recorded it. In a barely audible voice, she murmured, _“Lhaminn…”_

 _“I was barely a songstress at the time. Back then, my only venues were taverns, my only audience, miners who were too deep in their cups to actually listen. Until one night, an elezen man walked in by chance; a little bit gawkish, but charmingly so. He sat down to listen to me while I performed, every night. He was so enthralled listening to me, and he was the only one who did. But he never approached me; after my number was done he would simply pay for his drink and leave… Though not before giving me one last shy, longing look. So, I wrote this song as a message to him; the songstress expressing her desire to better get to know her bashful admirer that kept coming to listen to her sing. I wrote it for Nielle, and sang it for him onstage, and… That was how we began. I sang it at our wedding. So to you or to anyone else listening; if this song happens to ring true to you and your beloved, then by all means, feel free to borrow it for your own. But, for both your sakes, I hope your end will be a happier one than ours. And, I’m sorry to say, there_ **_will_ ** _be an end. As I told our dearest, bravest friend a lifetime ago, to love is to lose, and one can but delay the moment of parting. She said she understood; she loved fiercely, and she wept bitterly with every loss, until we in turn lost her… But even so, as much as it hurts: embrace and cherish the happy moments where and when you can find them, now more than ever. I suppose this song can be a reminder of such. Love and joy are fleeting, but that’s what makes them so wonderful. I wish you both well.”_

_“So, without further ado, enjoy… ‘Eyes On Me.’”_

It had taken a few moments to calm Rahela down; overcome with emotion, she hugged Noddy and started crying. The tears caused it to panic and insist that ‘water and nodes do not mix,’ and in that panic, Noddy administered a weak shock to get her to let the node go. At which point Thiuna offered Rah a handkerchief and gave her a moment to compose herself. Once she finished drying her eyes and blowing her nose, she apologized. And then asked to listen to the song that had been paused for the commotion. Upon doing so, she said it would be what played for the first dance of the reception. She would definitely need to ask F’lhaminn about that song once she was back in the Source…

The sky turned overhead, blue giving way to pink and orange with the sunset. Rahela opted to take the long way home, walking down the stairs from the Mean and down towards the Exedra. Word was spreading all over the city that the Warrior of Darkness was soon to marry the Oracle’s Guardian, so Rahela chose to avoid attention where she could. Today already felt like it had lasted for weeks, but it was only last night that she decided to go ahead with the wedding, and the whole day had been spent either planning in Thancred’s apartment or running to and fro through the Crystarium to see everyone. That, and trying to think of what to use for Feo Ul’s ‘four treasures of good fortune.’ 

‘Something blue,’ was a bouquet of forget-me-nots. ‘Something borrowed,’ F’lhaminn’s song. The first two treasures, the old and the new, she still hadn’t decided on. Would Feo Ul be annoyed with her for only finding half? Maybe she could ask G’raha about finding some relics from the Third Astral or Eighth Umbral Eras in the Tower that could work for the ‘old’ part…

“Hm…?”

Passing by the stairway that connected the Exedra with the Rotunda, Rahela suddenly felt as though she was being watched. And with a creeping sense of deja vu, she glanced behind…

There, she saw a familiar-looking shoebill. The one that had seemed to follow her around whenever she was in the vicinity of Kholusia, Eulmore, or even the Tempest. Frowning, she realized she’d never seen him in the Crystarium before. Ryne seemed to befriend the little bird on their last trip into the depths, was he here looking for her…?

Or, was it… No… 

She turned away and kept walking. No way, it was stupid to even think… 

But even as she walked away, she couldn’t shake the feeling…

Looking back again, the Shoebill hadn’t moved from his spot. But still, it stared at her, unblinking… 

All rational thought told her _don’t do it, just ignore it, don’t be tempted…_ but she felt her soul crying out, _do it, if only just to make sure…_

Just like it had during the celebration in Eulmore, the soul prevailed; Rahela took one last glance behind, looked forward, brought her pinched thumb and forefinger up to her mouth, and… 

The high, clear sound of her whistling cut through the thick silence of the air. Rahela immediately looked back, and… 

There was the Shoebill, gliding just above the ground in her direction. She could only stare in astonishment, mind racing in equal parts confusion and disbelief.

The bird finished its approach and landed right in front of her. As much as she had trouble believing it, she was still seeing it. Just like before, he’d come when she whistled…

“Uh… Hi there,” she said, not sure where else to start. Kneeling down to make eye contact with him, she hesitated for a long moment, before finally offering a weak, “Long time, no see…?” 

The Shoebill stared in silence.

Folding her ears down, Rahela wasn’t quite sure what she expected. Was she expecting the bird to talk back, in _his_ voice? That would just be weird. But then again, she was already talking to him. She supposed asking outright wouldn’t make anything worse. “So… Is it really you? Are you just… stuck like this?” 

She stared in anticipation of some kind of sign… And only got more silence. 

Just for the sake of this one-sided conversation, she would take that as a ‘yes.’ “Well… I guess that’s not so bad. There’s only so much you can do as a plain old regular bird, after all. You probably already knew, but Thancred and I are getting married pretty soon. And I need ‘something old’ for the ceremony, and. To put it bluntly, you’re about as old as old can get.” 

No reaction.

“It’s probably a bad idea, but… Out of respect for my past life and your bond with her, I feel like you should be there. If you want to come, then just stick around the city for a while, and it’ll happen eventually. But… behave yourself, okay? And maybe keep away any ‘friends’ of yours, if you can manage.”

It didn’t move, or blink, or anything. Simply stared. Staring right back, Rahela imitated the familiar face in her mind. Brows raised high, eyes half-lidded, lips drawn into a thin, pouty line. And she answered her own question in her best impression of him; _“I will do my utmost, hero.”_

The Shoebill pecked at the ground. Rahela wasn’t sure if that was a reaction to anything or not.

“Alright,” she said, getting back up. “I’ve gotta head home. Like I said; wait around here if you want a seat at the wedding. And be good in the meantime, you hear?”

With that last gentle, but firm warning, she turned on her heels and set off for home. But a small voice in her heart spoke up again, quiet yet insistent.

“Oh, and one more thing…” Rahela looked back to the Shoebill, and gave him a half-smile. “… Persephone says ‘hi.’”

“Did you find the four treasures, dear sapling?”

Feo Ul greeted Rahela at the door to the Waters family apartment by flitting into her face and making her jump in shock. Making sure she was at least in the room before anything else, she answered, “Sorry, not everything; only three out of four. I couldn’t find anything special enough to work as my ‘something new.’ Was I supposed to find all of them today, or will I have until the actual date?”

“Don’t fret your pretty head about it, darling,” The pixie reassured, booping Rahela on the nose. “I did promise to spoil you rotten, did I not? Your clever, most ingenious branch has decided to bestow a marvelous gift for both you and my little metal-wielding saplings, and that can count as your new treasure!”

Rah blinked in surprise. “Wait, really?”

Thancred, back in his ‘PaPa’ apron, was in the midst of reheating the leftovers of yesterday’s stew atop the stove as dinner. (The twins had left; they must have gone home already) He looked up and behind him; he’d already been listening, but Feo Ul was involving him and Ryne now. “What sort of ‘marvelous gift’ do you mean?”

“The sort that bestows upon you raiments fit for a faerie tale!” Feo Ul declared, flourishing the statement with a twirl. “All three of you, stand in a line and close your eyes!”

All three fell in line, and Rahela just then caught sight of Ryne, and had to double take at the end result of Feo’s experimentation with their fellow redhead. Ryne’s hairstyle had now taken an absurd verticality to it; a bizarre, gravity-defying conical… _beehive_ shape that was half Ryne’s height and would have given even Jandelaine pause.

“Uh… Wow, Ryne, that hair…”

Seeing the look of bemusement on Rahela’s face, the girl could only shrug. “I know, it’s… odd. I told Feo Ul I was thinking about styling my hair in a new way for the wedding, but their suggestions are… a little bit eccentric.”

“Yeah,” Rahela moved to pat Ryne atop the head, but her hand ended up bumping against the upward spiral of ginger hair, so eventually she just settled for squeezing the girl’s shoulder. “Simple is probably best. Feo Ul can get carried away sometimes…”

“That’s not exactly a comforting thing to hear when they’re about to bestow us with clothes of their own design,” Thancred pointed out, with just a hint of alarm in his voice.

“Oh, hush, you,” Feo admonished, hands on their hips. “If you keep up that snark I might make your trousers so tight you won’t be able to feel your _baus_ for a month!”

Rahela and Thancred grimaced in unison, both knowing enough Fae-speak to understand the threat being levied. They both decided against protesting further.

Just as they had done a few hours before, Feo Ul flew in a circle above their heads, faster and faster, scattering a trail of sparkles behind. The motes of light scattered over the room, floating down before slowly collecting at Rahela, Thancred, and Ryne, and swirling around them… Then, finally, the sparkles billowed upwards and enveloped them all in a gentle brilliance, so bright that Rahela looked upwards and closed her eyes…

And when the brightness faded, Rah felt a much heavier set of clothes on her. Blinking her eyes open and looking on, she found that the black mage robes and tights that Grenoldt had made for her had been replaced with a stunning, dark violet gown with puffed shoulder sleeves, and intricate patterns embroidered in golden thread. The overskirt and long gloves matched in color and embroidery, while the bodice of the gown flared out into a hoop skirt, lighter purple in color, with black bows on the side, a staggering number of petticoats and frills, all accented with a scalloped hem.

Ryne, meanwhile, mercifully had her hair restored to normal; and her dress, as a contrast to Rahela’s, was slim, shoulderless, flowing, and mostly white, with pink accents in the collar, the hem, the entire underskirt, the sash… and with pink flowers sewn into the sash tied into a bow. Seeing her new dress, the smaller girl broke into a smile of delight.

“Ahhh!” Rahela all but squealed, gathering her soon-to-be daughter into a big hug. “Ryyyne, your dress is so cute! It’s perfect!”

Returning the hug, and giggling, Ryne said, “You look wonderful, too! Like a princess from a faerie tale…!”

And looking up, Rah caught sight of Thancred, clad in a handsome ensemble of purest black; tunic vest embroidered with silver thread, with a ruffled ascot and capes over his white sleeves and gloves, with slim trousers and knee-high boots. He was looking over himself in disbelief, silently astonished that _this_ was to be his wedding attire.

His bride-to-be, however, was nothing less than delighted at the sight; to the point where she hopped up and threw his arms around his neck. “Thancred! Your suit! It looks amazing!”

Uncharacteristically sheepish, almost shy, Thancred cleared his throat, and felt for Rah’s back to make sure he was touching an appropriate place when he returned the hug. “I… Erm, thank you. I wish I could return the compliment, but… You know. Seems odd that the bride gets to see how the groom will look for the wedding, but not the other way around, though.” Separating from the hug and looking back up to Feo Ul, he acknowledged with a smile, “But even so, dear branch, I appreciate this kind gesture. Your skills as a tailor rival that of Tataru.”

“You’re very welcome, dear ones!” The pixie crowed, proudly performing a loop-de-loop in the air. “Though I do admit I had _some_ help from your little friend from across the rift; she gave me just the help I needed, letting me know your measurements, your favorite colors, that sort of thing!”

“Ah…” Rah folded her ears down, blushing to recall the time that Tataru had to ambush her to acquire her measurements. “Should have known…”

“But each and every one of you, do take special care of those garments,” Feo Ul said, pointing at the three of them. “Your _iz nefis_ poured their love into every single stitch! So don’t you dare soil them between now and the wedding day!”

Thancred nodded, but at that moment, his eyes widened with panic. “… Oh, hells, the stew!” He looked at the pot emitting a concerning amount of either steam or smoke atop the still-burning stove, then at his new clothes, and went, “Wait… Feo Ul, what happened to the clothes we were wearing before? Where did you put my apron? I can’t cook in this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you’re wondering how Rahela managed to get the role quest capstone; in-game she has her Amaro, but in-story, she was only ever a thaumaturge/black mage until she defeated Phronesis. Spotting Cyella in the Wandering Stairs, she noticed the uncanny resemblance between her and the adventurer Cylva that she saw in the Echo. Rahela asked if Cyella had an identical great-grandmother named ‘Cylva.’ Cyella’s response amounted to, ‘I’ll tell you the truth if you kill the three remaining Cardinal Virtues.’
> 
> She hunted Andreia next, because Lue-Reeq was desperate enough that he accepted a mage for a partner instead of a physical fighter. Giott, however, said in no uncertain terms that she only wanted a healer to aid her in the hunt for Sophrosyne; so Rahela took a crash course lesson in Astromancy from Urianger to become a mildly competent healer. And lastly, while Granson initially only wanted a tank, he accepted that he likely wouldn’t get a better partner than the Warrior of Darkness and slayer of the other three Virtues, so he took a mage for a partner as well.


	6. The Doe Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rahela has an unexpectedly enlightening experience when she goes out to party with her friends…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags; this chapter contains catnip, and a certain miqo'te getting a high equivalent from it. Rating changed to 'T' accordingly.

It had taken a great deal of planning and work, and a great deal of being told _‘No, Rahela, you don’t need to personally deliver every invitation to every guest, we have delivery moogles here in the First, too,’_ or _‘No, Rahela, even if the shipment of ingredients is running a bit late, you don’t need to go check on them,’_ or _‘No, Rahela, you don’t need to help set up tables or decorations at the venue,’_ but finally, the wedding was the day after tomorrow.

The wedding party and guests had arrived from all over Norvrandt, and they were all healthy and had everything ready for the ceremony. The Crystarium was, despite the recent disruptions by a certain Ascian, working smoothly on setting up the Exedra to serve as the Warrior of Darkness’ wedding venue and reception area; the children were delighted at the sight of Beq Lugg’s oversized magicked brooms sweeping the entire plaza clean. Pretty much everything was ready, leaving just enough room for the betrothed and their daughter to enjoy their downtime in relative peace. 

And finally, there was tonight. This was the evening where Thancred and Rahela each went off with their respective parties to enjoy a night of revelry: a ‘stag party’ for him, and a ‘doe party’ for her. As was explained to them, the honor attendants of the betrothed were the ones who planned the events; so Alphinaud and Alisaie were planning Rahela’s party, while Urianger and Y’shtola planned Thancred’s. And neither the ‘stag’ or ‘doe’ in question had been told what would be happening in these parties beyond when and where to meet up, as well as what to wear.

Thancred left the apartment first, dressing casually in preparation to meet Urianger, Y’shtola, Magnus, Lamlyn, and Grenoldt at the Amaro Launch. He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from his night; for although he knew his fellow Scions were far from shy about discouraging Thancred from letting loose his wilder impulses, even when in celebration, he also knew that they loved to see him publicly embarrass himself. So they would either be complete sticks in the mud, or shameless enablers. When he asked for Rahela’s input, she wasn’t sure either; the best advice she could offer was to simply be careful.

As she saw him off at the door, she moved to affectionately nuzzle his neck, but due to his not being able to see her, he accidentally clonked her in the head with his chin. Thancred grumbled in pained annoyance, “Ugh… I, for one, cannot _wait_ until this is over and I can actually _see_ the woman I love again.”

“I mean,” rubbing the spot where they’d collided, Rah offered with a shrug, “The way I see it, this will only make it better when you finally _do_ see me walking down the aisle. Right?”

“Aye,” Thancred shook his head. “That’s about the one thing that could make all the crashing and knocking into you worth it.”

A bit more carefully, Rahela nuzzled into his shoulder. “Just two more days,” she reassured, both to him and herself.

The door opened and Thancred stepped out, raising a hand; “Anyroad, take care while I’m gone, you two. I’ll be back by… Well, I’ll be back.”

And with that, he left, and Rah shifted her focus on getting herself ready. Alisaie only told her that they were meeting up for a light dinner at the Second Serving first, and from then on was a surprise. The only hint she got was to wear clothes that she wouldn’t mind if they got dirty or potentially damaged. After some careful consideration, she decided to sacrifice a simple white, short-sleeved shirt and blue, calf-length pants. Comfortable, casual, and easy to clean.

Almost ready to leave for the Second Serving, Rahela stood at the doorway to make sure she had everything she needed for a night out. Calling across the room, she asked, “You sure you’ll be alright, Ryne?”

“Of course,” the girl reassured. “Even if I were going to be by myself, I would know how to make my own dinner and keep busy for a few hours.”

And she wouldn’t be alone; since Rahela and Thancred were both having their own parties, Ryne decided to invite a certain someone to the apartment for a sleepover…

At that moment, hard knocking on the door signaled to Rahela that their guest had arrived. With a cheery smile, she opened up to greet…

“Gaia! Good to see you again!”

Crossing her arms, the Oracle of Darkness addressed Rahela in lieu of a greeting, “I admit, I’m impressed that you managed to put this whole wedding thing together so fast. Normally they take a stupidly long time to plan and it’s a hassle for everyone involved; they’re forced to take time out of their lives to come watch two people snog and maybe get some nice food out of it. And I suppose the second part is still true, but at least you made it quick, so. Points for that.”

… Godsdammit, even when Gaia complimented her, it still felt like an insult. Rah sagged her shoulders with a grimace of a smile. “Good to see you too. Come on in.”

Strolling into the Waters family apartment like she owned the place, Gaia called behind her, “Get a move on, none of us are getting any younger up here!”

Oh no, did Gaia bully Thancred into carrying her luggage _again?_ Rahela leaned out of the doorway to check, but to her surprise, she instead saw that the Pendants’ manager of suites had somehow been roped into the unenviable task; the poor elven man was straining from hauling the weight of the bulky suitcase up all those stairs, and he looked on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. Immediately she rushed out to help him make those last few stairs to the top.

“What… do you need… all this for…?” She grunted with the effort of helping the manager. “You live one building over, and I thought you were only staying over for one night, not, like, a month.”

Shifting her weight onto one leg, Gaia sneered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “I told you I would lend you some of my makeup, wouldn’t I? Ryne wanted to see what I had available to lend so I could leave it here, so I just brought everything.”

 _"All of this_ is makeup?"

"And a change of clothes, too."

Finally reaching the top step, and getting her suitcase on a level surface, Rahela asked with some annoyance slipping through, “At least thank the man who had to carry all of that up here for you!”

“Why should I? That’s his job, to escort guests to their rooms and take care of their belongings. Should I thank him for being a slowpoke about it? Does he want a prize for doing the absolute bare minimum?”

 _Oh,_ Rahela felt her tail fluffing up. But then she had an idea, and took out her gilpurse with a sly look. “How about this: for every rude comment you make, I tip him a thousand gil.”

Both Gaia’s and the manager’s jaws dropped, while Ryne stifled a laugh. And when the Oracle of Darkness angrily raised an index finger to retort, Rah showed that she wasn’t bluffing by handing him _three_ thousand gil right then and there. 

Letting out a hissing breath in defeat, Gaia glowered at the manager and muttered, “Fine. Thank you.”

And she continued to sulk even as Rahela and the manager finally dragged the suitcase full of makeup through the door. Thankfully, it wasn’t nearly as heavy as the ones Thancred had to carry from Eulmore to Mord Souq; she couldn’t so much as budge those when she tried to help him, but this one was a more manageable weight. But finally, it was done, and the manager was free to return to his desk, and clearly grateful to not have to carry that giant brick anymore… At least until whenever Gaia left.

“Phew,” Rah sighed in relief once the three were alone. As miffed as she often was with the raven-haired girl, Gaia still saved Rahela and Ryne’s lives; for that much, she could tolerate her… mannerisms, while still gently trying to correct them. “See, Gaia? Being polite to people isn’t so hard, right?”

With a hand on her hips, Gaia scoffed, “So what, am I supposed to carry my own luggage? A lady of gentle birth like me?”

Smile getting more and more forced, Rahela half-laughed through gritted teeth, “You’re telling me you’re strong enough to swing a hammer so hard that it can shatter unmelting, Light-strengthened ice into a million pieces… But you're not strong enough to carry your own makeup?”

“Exactly. And here I thought you were just as stupid as your daughter.”

A beat of silence.

Still gnashing her teeth through her pained grin hard enough to make her neck veins bulge out, she leaned down to Gaia’s level and hissed, _“That’s it, you little twerp, you’re getting the Cuchi-cuchi treatment.”_

“OKAY, okay-okay-okay,” Ryne soothed, putting herself in between the two and pushing them apart. Nudging Rahela out the door, she insisted, “We’ll be fine on our own, so you can go head out and have fun with the others! See you, Rahela!”

Rahela sighed as her party of six sat down at the Second Serving; a pleasant restaurant with an interior that matched the exterior decor of the Musica Universalis; the same wood and metal floors, with walls of glowing blue crystal, topped with a domed, greenhouse-like ceiling. It was calm enough right now, but the night was only starting here, and only the twins situated on either side of her knew what was next. Folding her ears down and flicking her tail, she figured that whatever she was in for, this pre-party meal would be her fuel for it. So she picked up her menu, intent on considering her options carefully…

… Before remembering that she couldn’t read Vrandtic. Attempting to be subtle about it, she leaned over to Alphinaud, sitting on her right, to sheepishly ask him for translations.

Pointing to each option listed on the menu, Alphinaud read the description to her one by one; “… And then on the saltier side, there’s the Spaghetti al Nero—”

The face of a certain eccentric engineer with shades and wavy, noodle-like hair appeared in Rah’s mind. “--Spaghetti al _who?”_

“No, not _that_ Nero.” Alisaie cooly interjected, not looking up from her menu. “It’s simply pasta drenched in squid ink; I do recommend it, but they’re going to ask for our drink orders first.”

Simple enough; Rahela already knew her own drink preferences. Internally, she repeated the order that she was going to give to the waitress or whoever came by to take their order. Looking at the staff out on the floor right then, she wondered how many were in the kitchen preparing food for the seven-course feast that would be the reception… Or even the cake…

“So, Rahela,” Phyna’s voice piped up from across the crystal table, drawing the bride-to-be’s attention. “What might your plans be for after the wedding? Shall you seize the opportunity to go on a relaxing journey with your new husband?”

It was a simple enough question, but Rahela wasn’t expecting it. She’d kept her mind free from worrying about the future by focusing on the present, and the wedding, but not a moment later than that. But even so, she knew the answer. In just a few days’ time, everyone would have to return to their uncertain reality, and go back to what they were doing, or what they were planning to do, before all this was announced.

G’raha would go back to overworking himself on the soul vessel. Ryne and the twins would all help to pick up the slack left behind by all the ‘Warriors of Light’ quitting their jobs at once. Y’shtola would return to the depths to probe the Ancient facility for more information on Elidibus, and possibly Venat. And Thancred would have to go off on his own, _again,_ to track the fake Ardbert… And all while the Scions were still in danger of losing their connections to their bodies…

… And that was if Elidibus didn’t make his move tonight. Or tomorrow. Or, gods forbid, on the actual wedding day…

“Rahela? Are you alright?” Phyna tried to cut through the fog of anxiety that she had inadvertently created. “I did not mean to upset you with my question…”

“S-sorry,” she stammered out, looking elsewhere to avoid anyone’s concerned gaze. “I, uh, haven’t given it much thought. Sorry.”

Just then, a shadow appeared at the crystalline door; Rahela froze in her chair, fists clenching and tail frizzing at the sight of the dark silhouette of _a hume with an axe…!_

Then, the door opened, and the silhouette belonged not to Ardbert, but an axe-wielding member of the Crystarium Guard, carrying a box of some supplies. Letting out the breath she was holding, she saw that Alphinaud, Alisaie, and Cyella had been looking to the door with alarm as well. That, somehow, was more relieving than the fact that it wasn’t actually him…

“Are you sure you’re alright, friend?” Lyna leaned forward, giving the miqo’te a careful look.

Understanding the cause of the sudden wave of panic, Cyella responded on Rah’s behalf, “Nothing to fret about, Captain. Wedding planning is stressful enough when one _isn’t_ the Warrior of Darkness.”

“R-right,” Rahela nodded, relieved to have a convenient excuse. Her tail relaxed, as she reassured them, “Just stress.”

Lyna stared at her a moment longer, before looking back down to her menu. “I see. In that case…” She paused, weighing her options. “If you desire something for stress relief, then I would suggest you try ordering the catmint tea; I can vouch for the calming effects it possesses. The Exarch is quite fond of it; I’ve seen him drinking it on occasions where he’s feeling anxious, or in low spirits.”

Cyella quirked a brow, then she smiled, seeming to recognize the tea. “Ah, I remember; an old friend of mine, Renda, she was fond of that tea as well. She said it helped her forget her troubles as surely as ale would, and without the liver damage.”

Rahela considered the recommendations, so that when the waitress did eventually come by and ask for everyone’s orders…

“I’ll have the catmint tea, please!” She declared, with certainty.

“An excellent choice!” The waitress replied, writing down the order. “That tea is especially popular with our Mystel regulars. And our Mystel employees, as well, oddly enough…”

The waitress strode back towards the kitchen with everyone’s orders, at which point, Alisaie grabbed a fistful of Rahela’s sleeve and pulled her close. “W’rahela Uillces. You do realize what catmint _is,_ don’t you?”

Blinking in confusion, Rahela said, with rather less certainty than before, “… It’s a kind of tea, isn’t it? You know, like chamomile tea, green tea, black tea…”

Alphinaud leaned in and attempted to clarify: “Catmint, scientific name _nepeta cataria,_ is an herb; one with well-documented intoxicating effects on miqo’te, as well as various feline species from tigers to house cats…”

“Wait, tea? _‘Intoxicating’? Guys,_ I’m not gonna get drunk from one cup of tea," Rahela half-scoffed. "I’m not a Namazu, no, no!”

Within a half hour of receiving and drinking her tea, Rahela was staring out into space, pupils dilated enough for her to be mistaken for a Keeper. The patterns and colors of the domed glass ceiling… She’d never found them so mesmerizing before… Somehow, the world was so much more _vivid_ than it used to be…!

The sounds around her were muffled and distorted now, but she sensed irritation from the voice beside her; slowly glancing down and to one side, Alisaie seemed… indignant. It looked like she was arguing with Lyna and Cyella… Rahela didn’t like that, they were all her friends, she didn’t want them to fight… But because Alisaie was the closest, Rahela _slooowly_ enveloped the small elezen girl into a hug, nuzzling into her soft, white hair. Now, the noises around her were replaced with faint-sounding _‘awww’s_ and giggles. Those noises, she liked better.

Rahela lost track of time; hard to keep focus when one feels like they’re floating. Thankfully, the food had been ordered, prepared, and served by the time the catmint had kicked in, so she now entertained herself by watching the jet-black spaghetti forming a little tornado every time she twirled her fork. Holding it up in front of her face, she said in a high-pitched voice, “Nero, you dyed your hair black… Is a good look… I wanna groom it…” She licked the pasta, and then closed her mouth over the whole prong of the fork. The joined flavors of salty squid ink and tomato sauce were a festival being thrown on her tongue, and she smiled dopily as she chewed.

Spacing out again, while still somehow managing to eat, Rah eventually found her plate empty, at which point she set about gazing in enthrallment at the dark clouds left behind on the white plate. And then, to her amazement, the plate disappeared, too…! (The waitress must have taken it.)

 _“I beg your pardon, ma’am,”_ Alphinaud’s voice echoed through the fog, _“But our Mystel friend seems to be, erm…”_

 _“She’s high as a bloody kite,"_ Alisaie interjected.

 _“Out of sorts, my sister means.”_ Alphinaud gently corrected. _“And it appears to be as a result of the catmint tea. Is this supposed to happen whenever Mystel partake in this tea?”_

 _“Oh, dear…”_ The waitress’ voice replied, concern in her tone. _“I apologize, if she's reacting like this, then the catmint must have been more concentrated than what we usually serve our customers. For Mystel, it’s supposed to just be a simple, pleasant feeling that lasts as long as the tea is in their system. The one who brews the tea most nights is busy with aiding in the wedding preparations, so we’ve got someone else doing it tonight.”_

Alphinaud’s tone was even, and understanding. _“Ahhh, I see. I’m relieved to know that this was merely an honest mistake. Our friend has a… shall we say, unpleasant history with drinks being served to her. But admittedly, none have been quite like this…”_

Rahela was only half-listening; with the plate gone, she instead grew fixated on the table… Blue crystal like the ceiling… She gazed deep into it, and pressed her hands flat against it… The surface was so nice, and felt so cool… Glassy, but not smooth… She had to feel it more… And she was barely aware of the noises of confusion when she leaned her head down to the table, smooshing her face against it and rubbing into it.

 _“Uuuugh…”_ Alisaie groaned in exasperation. _“I suppose it’s my mistake for assuming that CAPTAIN Lyna would be the most responsible one among us.”_

Lyna’s voice spoke up, audibly unimpressed with Alisaie’s accusatory tone, _“I do enforce the laws of the Crystarium, but catmint is perfectly legal for adult Mystel; as long as she does not operate any heavy machinery or attempt to ride an amaro, she’ll be fine. If anything, considering the intent was relieving Rahela’s stress, it surpassed expectations. Just look at her, she’s not got a care in the world.”_

 _“Don’t start a fight, Alisaie,”_ Alphinaud said, in a mollifying tone for his sister. _”It will only take a few hours for the effects to wear off. And we can still work with this; in fact, Rahela’s current state might even enhance her enjoyment of what we had planned next, over at Temenos….”_

Something seemed to dawn on Alisaie. _“Hm… You just might be onto something, brother…”_

The waitress had one last thing to say, however: _“Oh, but I just remembered; you two are the honor attendants, aren’t you? Our proprietor and head chef, Miss Hanji-Fae, wanted me to tell the bride that by the time she gets home tonight, there will be a package for her…”_

Someone managed to pay for the meal, and someone else managed to pry Rahela off the table and help her to her feet. With the catmint affecting her balance, she needed some guidance out of the door, and into the Musica Universalis markets. And the sight made Rah exclaim:

“How’d I never realize how _blue_ this place is?! ‘S _blue,_ like my _soul…!”_

 _“Yes, that’s right, Rahela,”_ she heard Alphinaud say, somewhere just below her field of vision. _“Y’shtola told us that your aether is a very nice sky blue.”_

“Bu’ blue’s not my fav’rite color, though,” Rahela pointed out. “‘s purple.”

_“Yes, I’m well aware. You think that, in all the time we’ve been friends, I wouldn’t know your favorite color?”_

Looking up into the domed ceilings, the inebriated miqo’te mused, “Ryne likes pink, ‘n’ so did Minfy… Bu’ their soul’s gold, like Minfy’s hair… Wonder why we like colors that aren’t whatever color our soul is…”

From Rahela’s other side came Alisaie’s voice, speaking with her customary bluntness: “ _You do realize, you don't NEED some deep, symbolic, or meaningful reason to just have a favorite color. Your reasoning can be as simple as thinking that it’s pretty, or that it suits you.”_

“Alisaie… Thass amazing! You’re so smart, you’re smarter than… Erm…” Rahela tried to think of the smartest person she knew. Urianger? Y’shtola? G’raha? Krile…? Well, they’re all Archons, so they’re supposed to be smart and know bigger words than her… Wait, Archons that know big words…! “Alisaie, you’re even smarter than _Mikoto!”_

_“Um… Thank you? I have no idea who that is, but I’ll take the compliment.”_

“Oh, ‘m sorry. Thass right, not all Sharl’yans know each other. Sorry for makin’ ‘sumptions.”

 _“No offense taken, Rah,”_ Alisaie said, with more amusement in her tone now, and Rahela felt a small hand slapping her back. _“No offense taken.”_

“So, where’re we goin’?” Rahela finally thought to ask after her party had guided her forward a considerable ways. On either side of her, Lyna and Phyna scooped out a leg from under her, and carried her up the stairs leading out of the markets and into the Rotunda; Rah could tell, because the blue light of the aetheryte was bright enough to be painful, and she squinted through it with a grimace.

 _“To the Temenos Rookery,”_ announced Alphinaud, trotting to keep up with the Viis’ long strides. _“We made some arrangements with the Facet of Nourishing.”_

 _“Ahhh, yes, I heard about that from Bethric,”_ Lyna said, a knowing smile in her voice. _“Though, I hope he doesn’t object to her approaching the amaro in her current state…”_

 _“If anything, she seems quite mellow,”_ Cyella noted as they turned the corner towards the Rookery. _“She relaxed right into your arms when you two picked her up. If anything, I expect she’ll bury herself face-first in their fluff and then not move for hours. I have seen an old friend of mine do that…”_

Rahela only registered the words _‘amaro’_ and _‘fluff.’_ But that alone was enough to get a reaction out of her; a gasp, and her face lighting up with joy. Joy that Rahela could only express by letting out a sort of quiet, scratchy squeal, around the volume of a whisper, hissing out, _“Aaa-maaa-rooo…!”_

 _“Yes, Rahela, amaro,”_ Phyna assured, _“And chocobos as well!”_

 _“Chooo-cooo-booo!”_ Rahela hissed, just a bit louder this time.

_“Rahela is known for many things,”_ Alphinaud stated in his usual declarative tone, (Rahela wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but it must have been someone) _“But what some may not know is her adoration for cute things; chief among them being chocobos, and more recently, amaro. Thus, we joined with the Facet of Nourishing put together, as a special treat for her: all the amaro and chocobos she could ever hope to pet!”_

Right on cue, the wooden gate opened, on the other side of which was the enclosure in which an uncountable (because numbers were a bit beyond her capacity at the moment) amount of amaro and chocobo, of all ages, were waiting for Rahela, and staring at her curiously. And she could only stare back, frozen in awe and amazement. 

Rahela didn’t remember much of what came next; someone put grain feed into her hands, and within moments, her senses were all reduced to _fluffy, fluffy feathers._ She heard the amaros’ ‘khrr’s, the chocobos’ ‘kweh’s, and her own overjoyed mewing. She couldn’t stop grinning, petting and hugging each and every one of them; the euphoria was so overwhelming that, in sharp contrast to her earlier lethargy, she felt light as a feather, legs going a million malms a minute as she zoomed and bounced all over the enclosure, giggling like a lunatic the entire time. And she wasn’t sure how long she kept it up for. It might have been because of all her twirling about, but her vision eventually started blurring, and then fading, and she felt herself floating upward, into a horizontal position, floating away on a cloud of wonderful feathers…

… The next thing Rahela knew, she was mostly upright, her arms draped around a pair of smallish shoulders while two arms held her up by the waist. Her head was a mess of a fog, on the comedown from her high; she blearily opened her eyes to find herself being half-dragged towards the Pendants. Her clothes were caked in mud, her glasses askew and smeared, her hair terribly mussed…

“Nnnnya…” Glancing up to see who was carrying her, it was… “Alphy…? Ali? Wha… happened…?”

“A grand battle took place,” Alisaie stated, completely serious and matter-of-fact. “A masked villainess who looked suspiciously like that Eidith woman swooped in out of nowhere and snatched you up, declaring that she would hide you somewhere nobody would ever find you, so she could have Thancred all to herself. Thankfully, the combined forces of your faithful honor attendants and dutiful bridesmaids made short work of her, and we took you back.”

As outlandish as it sounded, Rahela found herself believing the notion that she _would_ be unlucky enough to nearly get kidnapped by a jealous stalker while on a catmint high, forty-eight hours before her wedding. “W… What? Really?”

 _“No,_ Alisaie,” Alphinaud rebuked his twin, “That didn’t happen.” 

“Fine, alright, it _didn’t_ happen…” A sneer crossed her face as she glanced down towards Rahela. _“… Or did it?”_

“What _really_ happened,” Alphinaud explained, “is that we decided to cut the doe party short; primarily because, well, you fell asleep in the middle of the Rookery, snuggling up with one of the amaro.”

Amusement and barely concealed laughter permeated Alisaie’s tone as she added, “But, certainly not before you managed to display a truly spectacular example of a phenomenon that some ethology professors back home have informally dubbed, _‘the zoomies.’”_

Blinking as she processed all of this, Rahela internally cringed at how bizarrely she must have acted while under the influence. “… I just embarrassed myself in front of everyone, didn’t I.”

 _“Well,”_ Alphinaud struggled valiantly to keep himself from smiling, but his shakey tone already said everything. “We all understood you were in an altered state of mind, so nobody thinks less of you for your, erm, energetic display. So, don’t worry; after all, the whole point of tonight was for you to enjoy yourself, and that goal was quite handily accomplished.”

“You’re a good boy, Alphy,” Rahela cooed to the boy, and leaned her head to the side in an attempt to nuzzle him. “Very, very good. You too, Alisaie. Even though you’re a little bit more… chaotic. I love you both very much.”

“Oh, hush,” Alisaie brushed off the affection, with a poorly concealed pout. “Or I’ll tell Tataru about that catmint tea the minute we get home.”

The manager of suites was surprised to see Rahela return in such a state; he asked if she needed to be taken to the Pendants’ public baths in order to clean up, but the twins said they just wanted to get her in a bed. Preferably hers. Thus, they ushered her up the stairs towards the apartment she’d been given when she first arrived in the Crystarium…

… But to their collective surprise, they found a white package sitting by the door, addressed from Hanji-Fae to Rahela. Alisaie managed to pick up the parcel with one hand, and get the door open to lay the exhausted bachelorette down on the side of her bed.

The younger twin leaned over Rah, making sure her eyes were back to their usual slits and no longer concerningly dilated. “Are you feeling better?”

“My head’s a lot clearer now, thanks,” she answered, “Though, I could definitely use some water…”

Across the room she heard a liquid pouring, and seconds later Alphinaud reentered her field of vision, and handed her a cup. She gratefully took it and sipped. “So this marks the _third_ time where trying a new drink has resulted in some kind of mishap. First time I tried ale, I got drugged. Pomegranate juice triggered an Echo vision and I spilled it all over my dress. And now, _catnip tea_.”

“Cat _mint,”_ Alphinaud corrected.

Alisaie corrected the correction, “It’s two names for the same plant.”

“R-right. Anyroad,” Alphinaud changed the topic: “Do you want us to head upstairs and inform Ryne that you’re home safe?”

Perhaps the catnip wasn’t completely out of her system yet, because at the mention of Ryne, Rahela made another dopey grin, lifting her arms as if she were outstretching them for a hug, and answered by _singing,_ _“I want to see my lit-tle girl! I want to see my lit-tle girl!”_

Grimacing and glancing towards Alphinaud, Alisaie simply said, “... Let’s just take that as a ‘yes.’ Come on.”

With that, the twins left the room. Groggily, Rah sat up and moved to the dresser, and changed out of her muddy clothes, (Alisaie wasn’t kidding when she told Rah to wear something she wouldn’t mind ruining) and into some loose sleeping clothes. And she finally thought to investigate the parcel that Hanji-Fae left for her. And right away, as soon as she started opening it, she immediately caught a tantalizing, sweet scent.

_“Caaaake.”_

Inside the box were four paper grocery bags, each one filled with the crumbled-up cake scraps; Hanji-Fae had explained awhile back that they were trimmings that the bakers had cut from the tops and sides of each tier of the wedding cake. And in each bag was a differently-flavored tier: from bottom to top, the tiers went vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, and marble cake. Rah grinned, tail swishing happily, excited to share it with the younger Scions once they came back with Ryne.

And right on cue, the apartment door opened back up, and Rahela turned around to greet her daughter with a big grin. “Hey, Ryne! Sorry to get back early and cut your slumber party short, but I-- _buaaa--?!”_

But when she turned around, expecting to see her daughter, she saw the twins escorting what looked like _Gaia wearing a long, ginger wig and Ryne’s dress,_ and she yelped so hard she nearly fell off her stool. Or wait, no, on closer inspection, it _was_ Ryne. Just Ryne, but wearing the same heavy eyeliner, heavy mascara, heavy eyeshadow, heavy blush, and _heavily_ overdrawn dark lipstick as Gaia. Rahela couldn’t find any words to describe just how _wrong_ it looked.

Seeing the look of bewilderment she was getting, Ryne answered, “I know, Gaia's colors looks strange on me. She tried to tell me as much before she put them on, but I wanted to try it anyway. But, once I saw myself in the mirror, it turned out to be a bad idea after all. I was about to start taking it off when Alphinaud and Alisaie came to the door and told me you’d gotten back early; so Gaia decided to leave some makeup she thought would suit you, then pack up the rest and head home.”

“At which point,” Alisaie said, loudly and irritably, “This girl didn’t even bother to introduce herself to us. Instead, she pushed past us, walked over to the stairwell, and _yelled down to the lobby_ to get the manager of suites to carry her luggage back to the Catenaries.”

Alphinaud added, with a look of dismay. “And then Alisaie told Gaia to carry her _own_ luggage, and, well, the arguing escalated from there. Ryne and I had to physically separate them…”

“Yeah,” Rahela grimaced, folding her ears down. “Gaia’s… an acquired taste.” Impolite, impatient, imperious… Small wonder she didn’t make a good impression on Alisaie; Gaia must have seemed like a super-amplified mirror of the ‘self-important little brat’ that Alisaie used to be.

“Gods, was _I_ ever that bad?” Alisaie wondered aloud while pinching the bridge of her nose. Seemed that Rah’s idea was on the mark. “Ugh… I’ll need to apologize to Sinis and Deks whenever I see them again.”

“Who--?” It took a moment, but then it occurred to her. “Oh! Your old roegadyn retainers, I remember now. Gods, I haven’t seen them since that whole mess with the Coils. Sinis was the twin with hair, right?”

“I… don’t remember,” Alisaie admitted. “But if, perhaps, any future adventures were ever to take us to Sharlayan, then maybe I could properly introduce you.”

“Sure, but first!” Rahela gestured emphatically at the four grocery bags sitting on the table. “Hanji-Fae brought us scraps from the wedding cake! We’ve got vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, and marble! Who wants what?”

Immediately cheered up at the prospect of cake, Alisaie pumped her fists and pointed to the appropriate bag: “Red velvet!”

Ryne politely raised her hand and asked, “Marble, please?”

Alphinaud requested, “I’ll partake in some chocolate, if that’s alright.”

“Leaving only vanilla for me?” Rah crossed her arms, before smiling. “It’s fine, I like vanilla; and joke’s on you, vanilla’s actually the biggest layer, so more cake scraps for me!”

Looking at the three younger Scions for their reaction to this reveal, Rahela found only silent, unreadable silence. It seemed her joke had fallen flat.

“... I’m kidding, I’ll absolutely share with all of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points for you if you can guess the symbolism behind the cake flavors.
> 
> Also, I've never been high, so I was only able to work from secondhand information. And I'm sorry for implying that G'raha and Renda-Rae are/were stoners.


	7. The Stag Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'shtola and Urianger return with Thancred, and they have quite the story to tell…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you final fantasy vii remake

After Ryne cleaned off her makeup, (she happened to lick her lips and make a face of revulsion at the taste of her wax lipstick) everyone sat down to eat a bowlful of their respective cake scraps. The next long while passed with friendly and familiar conversation, with some lulls to give everyone a few minutes to actually eat. But during one such silence, Rahela wished that she’d thought to set a chronometer in her apartment. Honestly, now that she thought about it, considering the last hundred years with an eternally bright sky, it was rather stupid for the Crystarium to _not_ have clocks in plain view everywhere one looked. But that was a matter for another day. Right now, she had no idea what time it was, and she looked to the window… Still nighttime.

Thancred admitted up-front that due to the fact that he didn’t know what Urianger and Y’shtola had planned for his stag party, he also didn’t know _when_ he would be back. But he did promise that he _would_ be back. And Rahela knew that she and the twins would probably still be out on her own party if not for the incident with the catnip. And it went without saying that she trusted all three of them to stay safe, and keep each other from making any bad decisions while drunk. Even so, she couldn’t help but worry; there was only so much they could keep in their control…

… So she shoveled a few spoonfuls of cake crumbs into her mouth, and concentrated on the sweet taste to keep away her worries. 

And then, moments later, a knock on the door, making all present turn to look. 

“I’ll get it,” Ryne announced, getting up from her stool, being the one closest to the door. She opened the door inward just slightly, and peering through the crack, made a noise of surprise. “Oh! Y’shtola, Urianger! Welcome back!”

 _“There you are, Ryne,”_ Rahela’s ears perked up at the sound of Y’shtola’s voice; she sounded winded, a bit tired, even. _“You weren’t in your apartment, so this was the second place we thought to look.”_

Ryne opened the double doors wide enough to let them in. Y’shtola was at the front, Urianger behind her. And between them, they carried… _someone_ in their arms. Rahela couldn’t quite tell the identity from how they were slumped and unconscious, but. They certainly _looked_ feminine, in a stunning black-and-lavender belted dress; an impressive number of petticoats, a lacy collar and sleeves, and even a bustle decorated with frills. Hair, as shiny and white as snow, with two braided pigtails hanging over the shoulders, decorated with pink bows.

Ryne, however, was missing someone, and asked the two Scions with some alarm, “Where’s Thancred? Did something happen? And who’s that pretty lady you’re carrying…?”

Giving each other a smirk, Urianger and Y’shtola set this mystery lady down on the floor, and allowed the others to gather around and lean over her…

 _“Oooh,_ she’s…” Rahela was about to say _‘gorgeous,’_ but she noticed something… The hands delicately clasped together over the stomach… Those wispy white bangs framing the face… The shape of the nose, the lips, the jawline… and then, spying the familiar Archon brand, the realization hit her instantly, her face going red. “Wait… _No way…”_

Urianger didn’t bother hiding his amusement as he confirmed, “As thou doth see, Thancred hath made much mirth this night.”

Ryne’s jaw dropped in shock, and Alphinaud’s expression was one of purest befuddlement, while Alisaie made a noise akin to air escaping an untied balloon before bursting into mad cackling. 

“Wh- How did- Is he--?” Ryne stumbled over her words, not knowing which of her many questions to ask first. “Just— _why.”_

“Well…” Y’shtola crossed her arms, a smirk forming on her face. “Perhaps we should start from the beginning. But first… I smell cake.”

It took a moment for everyone to resituate themselves; Rahela moved Thancred to her bed and tucked him in, and then made her way back to the table and sat on the chair next to Ryne, while Urianger and Y’shtola sat on the stools opposite them. The twins fetched the two plush stools stored on either side of the window so they could sit at either end of the table. Rah’s tail twitched, as all eyes focused on the best man and woman as they leisurely ate their marble and chocolate cake scraps respectively.

“Apologies for the pause; eating cake with you and Alisaie here reminded me of our little outing to that patisserie in Limsa Lominsa, with Lyse; I should quite like to go back once we return home.” After taking a moment to smile in reminiscence, Y’shtola finally cleared her throat and began. “But yes: Thancred’s ‘stag party’… A short time ago, we heard tell that the Beehive had taken great strides to improve its accessibility, expanding what it could provide, and generally approaching a semblance of reputability. Thus, we approached your friend, Kai-Shirr, as well as the establishment’s owner, who only gave his title of ‘Queen Bee,’ and asked if the lounge would play host to the party.”

Urianger explained, “‘Twas our intention to have Thancred end his days of unmarried life with a grand celebration; one meant to emulate his erstwhile days of merrymaking in Ul’dah ere the waxing of the senary moon plunged him into his long melancholy.”

“In other words,” Y’shtola remarked, “letting him admire dancing girls and drink to excess as a sort of ‘final farewell’ to his previous lifestyle. When we explained all this to the Queen Bee, he said he completely understood, and would ensure that the groom-to-be would have the night of his life…”

At that exact moment, Rahela felt the familiar thumping and throbbing in her head that signaled the beginnings of an Echo vision; she winced and closed her eyes as her mind began being pulled towards Y’shtola… 

_“Master Thancred’s stag party, is it? Welcome to the Beehive!” Kai-Shirr, handsomely dressed in his checkered blue-and-black waistcoat, stepped back and beckoned the party of six into the lounge. “We got a show special for you lot tonight! All the dancers are getting ready backstage, so just make yourself comfortable and order whatever food and drink you like, aye?”_

_Lamlyn, Magnus, Grenoldt, Y’shtola, Urianger, and Thancred were escorted to a table that would occupy all of them; they sat down, and… An awkward silence ensued. The Beehive looked uncharacteristically drab with most of the lights turned either down or completely off, not enough for the mirror ball overhead to scatter any reflections across the floor. In the waiting for their server, or for anything to happen, nobody could find anything to say…_

_… At least until Urianger broke the silence. “Thancred. Hast thou frequented this establishment in the past?”_

_“I have, actually,” Thancred admitted, crossing his arms. “I did, after all, spend the better part of two years infiltrating the Eulmoran military, in order to gather reconnaissance on the location of a certain Oracle whom we know and love. And one of my methods was bringing the off-duty soldiers here and getting them drunk enough to answer honestly when asked where they thought Vauthry would keep a high-security prisoner. And once I found and rescued said prisoner, Ran'jit had me declared Eulmore's foremost public enemy, so I never risked getting close again until we all returned together with a vengeance.”_

_Urianger leaned back in his chair, stroking his sideburns in contemplation. “I see…”_

_… The gunbreaker then frowned and quirked a brow. “So I never came to ogle the dancers, if that’s what you were wondering.”_

_Another silence ensued, this one ended by Lamlyn, asking with some trepidation, “Erm, why’s that a concern he would have?”_

_“Weeell. In the past, before I met Rahela, I confess that I was… To put it mildly, something of a philanderer. I’ve no excuse for it; at least, none that I feel comfortable with sharing. But the fact remains, that in my homeland I’d build up a rather unsavory reputation as a serial flirt. However,” Leaning on his hand, Thancred gestured to Urianger and Y’shtola with his thumb, “These two can never seem to decide on how successful I was at it; I either left a long trail of besotted conquests in my wake, or I was only silver-tongued in my own mind, with all my advances having been met with rejection upon rejection. They just seem to go with whatever suits the snide comment they currently want to make at my expense.”_

_Y’shtola crossed her arms, giving him an unimpressed look. “So what is the truth, then?”_

_“I wasn’t reckless, there was a method to the madness; some cases really were just for pleasure, and others were more, well, networking. But not every lady was interested, and I could take ‘no’ for an answer. So, it was a mix of both. But, in any case… After the death of our mentor, I couldn’t afford to waste my time galavanting about like before; so I forced myself to abstain from my vices, and threw myself into my work. I suppose, looking back, I was punishing myself for my perceived failings… And then that led to me overcorrecting to the point where I was working myself half to death. But, long story short, I had a great deal of issues that Rahela helped me to work through. And, from my perspective, at least, it’s been about ten years since I’ve been with any woman other than her.”_

_“—Ah,” Y’shtola’s eyes widening, she seemed surprised to hear it phrased so. “… Well, saying it like that puts things in perspective.”_

_Urianger smiled, and nodded in approval. “Taming thy wild heart to her loving hand.”_

_"So, if you intended this whole stag party to be some sort of 'final temptation' to test my faithfulness to my dear fiancée by throwing me in front of stripteasing ladies, then know that it wasn't necessary." With that said, he slapped his knees and adjusted his position on the seat. "Now on the other hand, if you intend to let me drink to my heart's content without reproach? Now that is quite a different story. You scolded me out of celebrating the night's return, and my own engagement, so I will gladly make up for lost time."_

_"Full glad we are to hear it," Y'shtola shrugged, with a bemused huff. "Now I believe your life story has kept our poor server waiting long enough, so shall we order our food?"_

_The waiter took that chance to step forward and ask for everyone’s food and drink orders, and write them down accordingly: blood tomato juice and grilled rail for Lamlyn, whiskey and peppered popotoes with extra sausage for Magnus, white wine and oysters for Grenoldt, ice water and ovim meatballs for Urianger, red wine and broad bean salad for Y’shtola, and for Thancred…_

_“For dinner I think I’ll have the rare roast beef,” Thancred declared, while eyeing his drink menu with some curiosity._

_“And your drink?”_

_“Well, if tonight’s going to be all about indulgence, then I’ll take this chance to partake in the one drink that’s always eluded me.”_

_“And what drink would that be?”_

_With one last moment of contemplation, Thancred looked up and said, with certainty: "The absinthe, if you please."_

_“Ooh, feeling bold tonight!” The waiter smiled in approval, and wrote down the order. "I'll return with your drinks in but a moment; Anfrigg has the night off tonight, on account of his bartending the upcoming wedding, so I'll prepare the drinks myself."_

_"Good man," Thancred nodded, and the waiter made his way back to the bar._

_As soon as he was out of earshot, Grenoldt snapped out of his surprise, and asked what everyone else was thinking: “Absinthe? The green bloody faerie? You might be bold, but that stuff's got some right tales around it."_

_"Aye, I do recall hearing some stigma about the drink causing hallucinations; all put upon it some years ago by wine manufacturers that felt threatened by its popularity with the smallfolk." Thancred cracked his knuckles. "If I start seeing any pink marids, I'll be sure to let you know."_

_As promised, the waiter returned with an expertly balanced tray full of drinks, and set them down for each person; Thancred's drink was, of course, the stand-out, being only partially filled with an opaque, emerald-green spirit, and next to it a short, stout green bottle with a rendering of a pixie on the label. "In case you want a refill; drink responsibly. Your food will be out shortly."_

_At that moment, a dash of blue appeared from behind the stage curtain; Kai-Shirr stepped out and announced to the patrons, (Mostly Thancred's party, but some others, including Mowen, who sat on the opposite side of the room) "The show will start in about five minutes! Thank you kindly for your patience tonight!"_

_The Mystel disappeared behind the curtain again, and Thancred remarked, "I think he got that waistcoat from Rahela; she gave me a similar one not long ago. She grumbled something about a 'rigged contest' happening back home. But I'd almost forgotten about the show; do you think they'll be doing any different from their usual routine?"_

_“Not especially,” Magnus said, his jowls forming a frown. “If it’s only going to be scrawny Mystel girls undulating on that stage, then it’s not likely to hold my interest. Still, I’ll not turn down a nice meal.”_

_Sensing that Y’shtola was giving the miner a dubious look, Thancred asked, “I take it that Ronso women are on the more muscular side?”_

_Magnus scratched the back of his neck, looking to the side. “Well, can’t speak for all of them, but Agna was, at least.”_

_“Fair enough; as I said, each has their own personal preferences. And as for the dance, I don’t expect to pay it much mind either. Though, I do admit, I would quite like to see Rahela perform such a dance…” His face dropped into a dour expression. “Hells, I’d quite like to ‘see’ her in ANY capacity.”_

_"I do admit, there's only one lady I've eyes for," Lamlyn shyly mumbled, "I doubt anyone here could dance the way she does…"_

_And looking out of the corner of his eye, Grenoldt murmured, partly to himself, "If you ask me, there's a rare beauty out here already…"_

_"Looks like none of us are ones for dancing girls. Ah well." Thancred shrugged, and took his shot glass in hand. Lifting it up, he announced, "Nothing for it but to have fun and speed up the clock!"_

_Y'shtola took her goblet and raised it high, proclaiming, "A toast, then! To you and Rahela."_

_Lamlyn, raising his tomato juice, made his own declaration, "To the Wedding of the Century!"_

_Magnus took up his whiskey, and added, "May you both enjoy a long, loving union."_

_Urianger in turn raised his ice water, and proclaimed, "And mayest thou cherish each other, and savor each and every blessed moment together."_

_Grenoldt was full-on staring across the room now, but he noted that everyone else had raised their glasses, and cleared his throat, raising his white wine. "Erm, what they said."_

_All six glasses clinked together, and all but Thancred took a sip of their drink. He stared a long moment into the green liquid, mentally preparing himself, before taking down the entire shot of absinthe in one gulp…_

_And all eyes were on him, as within mere moments of swallowing, he grimaced in apparent pain, groaning and coughing at the undoubtedly powerful spirit. "Nnngh, gods, that's potent…!" Another cough, accompanied by him delivering a bracing punch to the chest._

_"How is it?" Magnus asked, growing concerned by this reaction._

_"It's… it’s not BAD," Thancred said, his voice just slightly hoarse. "Feels like it could strip the paint off of an airship, but not BAD. You want some, Magnus? There’s more in the bottle."_

_“Thanks, but no thanks, friend; I’ll stick with the devil I know.”_

_“I might actually try some of that,” Grenoldt mused, mostly to himself._

_And Thancred answered with a sudden, rapid shaking of his head, and he proclaimed, “That was bracing! It kind of leaves a coating on your teeth and mouth; ‘m still tasting it. And i’s sort of… hot? The air conditioning in here’s pretty cold, but I feel quite warm now! I think I’ll have summore…”_

_Y’shtola and Urianger gave each other a look as Thancred poured himself a second shot of absinthe and knocked it back, causing another pained grunt and fit of coughing. But just as the two honor attendants were about to inquire as to his well-being, what little light that remained in the lounge disappeared, plunging everyone into pitch black darkness…_

_… Until music from an unknown source filled the room; low strings, with rhythmic snapping to provide percussion. At once, the curtains that were usually kept closed, now drew open, revealing an entire stage behind it; and on this dimly-illuminated stage, a number of performers stood in shadow and made slow, slinking movements, until the restrained music then burst with energy with a loud blast of brass instruments; at the same time, the stage nearly exploded with golden, glittering lights and a burst of similarly golden confetti. Behind the vivacious dancers was an enormous mechanical flower about to burst into bloom, and behind that, the back wall held a massive marquee spelling out "BEEHIVE" in neon lightbulbs._

_The dancers, clad in skimpy bee-themed costumes as opposed to their usual attire twirled and buzzed their way through the loud, brassy song, kicking their legs and spinning in sync until they gathered around the flower. As the song hit an upward shift in key and a countering accompaniment of graceful harps, the flower burst into bloom, and out emerged, in a flamboyant burst of sparks, a pale-haired elven man in a black suit with ostentatious embroidery of gold thread: the Queen Bee._

_The entire wedding party was struck dumb by this display, save for the Thancred, who alerted all to his achieved drunkenness as he slurred in wonderment: “… I think the faeries are here.”_

_Making his way down from the flower as his worker bees cleared the way for him, he strutted down the stage's catwalk, his eyes remaining on Thancred the entire time. Sensing this, the drunken gunbreaker watched his approach with naked confusion._

_The Queen, however, descended from the catwalk and floated his way to their table, greeting the entire group with an elegant bow. "I bid you all welcome, friends. I take it this handsome gentleman is Thancred, the groom-to-be?"_

_"What're you--?" Thancred began to question, before the Queen gently, but firmly touched a finger against his lips. Now pouting at being shushed, he instead expressed his confusion with an indignant look._

_The Queen assured, his tone even and sonorous, "It's alright, I understand. I heard everything; you are a man weighed down by many regrets, and many burdens. But now, you stand upon the threshold of ending your complicated relationship with hedonism, and committing yourself to the woman you love; thus is tonight an ending to mark a new beginning!"_

_Blinking rapidly in the light, Thancred slid off of his cushion and fell flat onto the floor. But he picked himself back up, woozily nodding his head. When he looked up, he found the Queen's hand offering itself, and without thinking, he took it…_

_… And was pulled to his feet, being guided towards the stage, up the steps and onto the catwalk. At this point, he finally thought to ask, "Wha' d'you wan' me t' do…?"_

_"To bare your soul," the Queen declared, thrusting his arms out wide. "To shed your burdens and shake them off your shoulders with the power of dance!"_

_A look of panic crossed Thancred’s face, causing him to draw back and nearly fall over again. "Dance…?"_

_"You need only follow my lead," the elf promised. Thancred still hesitated, causing the Queen to lean in closer. "I can tell you're nervous. If I may ask, have you ever been with a man in your past pursuits, or only women…?"_

_Thancred blinked, shocked at the bluntness of the question, and bowed his head. And he mumbled, only barely coherent, "… 'S complicated. Don' like talking about i--"_

_At that moment, the Queen gently silenced him with a kiss to the forehead. "You don't need to say anymore. You need only lose yourself in the music and let it move you. Come…"_

_The Queen took Thancred by the wrist and guided him down the catwalk to the main part of the stage; with a devilish grin, he then playfully shoved the hyur away, making them stand only a short distance apart from each other._

_Then, new music started blaring. A bouncy sort of song with a pronounced drumbeat, with almost electronic-sounding instruments. In addition to the hundreds of reflections cast onto the floor by the mirror ball overhead, a pair of spotlights shown on both the Queen Bee and Thancred, making the rest of the room all but pitch black. The latter looked about in confusion, until the former beckoned him and began to dance in time with the music. A swiveling of the hips, a shuffle of the feet, and an expectant look for Thancred to copy the motion; and so he did, mimicking the movements with expert precision despite his heavily drunken state. Another dance move, and another repetition, and the pair quickly fell into an imperfect, but still impressive sync; they moved together as though they had known and practiced this choreography for moons beforehand, even though there was no way Thancred could have. Was this the effects of the absinthe?_

_But that didn't seem to be enough for the Queen Bee; sweeping in close to Thancred, he leaned down to whisper into his ear:_

_"Dance as if you're a butterfly making your way out of your cocoon: shedding your past self and unfurling your wings to embrace your true beauty."_

_Thancred mumbled back, expression showing that he was losing his concentration on the music, "I though' the theme wuz 'bees'…"_

_"Both make the world more beautiful, do they not? Now, become who you were meant to be!"_

_At that moment, the music abruptly picked up its tempo, and Thancred sped up his movements along with it, in perfect harmony with the beat. He danced as if he really were shaking off every shameful memory of his past. Thrusting his arms outward for every time he'd left a woman alone in bed the morning after. Thrusting his hips backwards for every time he'd called on a past paramour to return a favor, and forward for every time he'd been the other man for a bored, married woman, kicking his legs out for every time a night of drinking turned his silver tongue to lead…_

_He spun in place and, gracefully as the most flexible dancer, performed a perfect frontflip down the catwalk that ended in a seamless, effortless split._

_Y’shtola sorely regretted not thinking to bring along that ancient device from Anamnesis Anyder, because she dearly, dearly wished she could record this for posterity._

_But for Thancred, he didn’t notice; he hopped back up to his feet for every time he'd skipped a meal, thinking he didn't deserve to eat until he'd gotten a certain amount of work done. He performed an emboîté for every time he'd brushed off someone's well-meaning advice on getting some sleep. A jeté for every time he'd hesitated to say or do something when he should have. An entrechat for every time he threw himself into his work rather than face painful feelings, and disappear for months on end. A pirouette for every word spoken in anger or frustration. Would this dancing truly throw off his burdens and make him the perfect husband and father…?!_

_The song reached its climax, and he performed a grand finish with a stomping of his foot and an outstretching of his hand upwards, towards the radiance of the spotlight…!_

_… And he fell backwards, landing flat on his ass._

_Once again, the Queen helped the dazed Thancred back to his feet, and snapped his fingers. That was the honeybees’ cue to bring out an ornate, velvet-cushioned, gilded chair and set it center-stage. The Queen gently guided the hyur to sit down in the chair as it was surrounded by a veritable swarm of his dancers. As they obscured Thancred from their view, Urianger and Y'shtola stood up from their seats, increasingly alarmed at this; in his drunken, pliable state, there were certain things he couldn't consent to, and it would fall to them to save him from those things._

_Until, at least, they spotted one male dancer carrying an entire kit of Honeybee trappings: makeup, hair extensions, sequins, spangly things, and other assorted frippery… And once they caught sight of the Queen Bee carrying out a lovely, frilly lavender-and-black dress on a hanger, they then understood exactly what they planned to do to Thancred. This, they had no intention of saving him from._

_And minutes later, the sea of Honeybees parted to reveal what looked to be an entirely new person, tucked safely in the Queen's arms. But all in the audience could tell, this perfect picture of a demure, high-class maiden, was their dear Thancred. Unmistakeable, despite the glossy lips, immaculate mascara, perfectly highlighted cheekbones, seamless hair extensions, flawless nails, and a dress almost tailor-made for him._

_"I like to think this is my own way of 'purifying' the sins of my patrons," the Queen explained to the party over the music. "Letting them free their conscience from past mistakes, and from their inhibitions. This man has been reborn!"_

_With one last nod, the Queen spun and dipped him and, with one last deep look into his eyes… Scooped him up off his feet and bowed to the audience before one last wave of golden confetti showered the room, and the spotlights turned off to signify the ending of the performance._

_Moments later, Y’shtola and Urianger were relieved to see their friend being carried back in the Queen’s arms, having finally passed out from all his drinking and exertions and looking more peaceful than either of them had seen him look in ages._

_“Not to worry; he still has his original clothes on underneath this,” reassured the Queen, who then regarded Thancred with a sympathetic look. "He's suffered through much; men are all too quick to shoulder their burdens alone, but pain has no care for gender. He hides a tender heart behind his facade of masculine strength. Tell his bride to take good care of it."_

_Y’shtola wanted, so badly, to laugh at the sheer absurdity of what tonight ended up being; a stag party somehow turned into a sort of glitzy, ostentatious dance-therapy session, with a drag show thrown in right at the end. But the Queen spoke with such sincerity that she couldn’t bring herself to so much as chuckle. “We shall see to it, good sir.”_

_Taking Thancred from the Queen’s arms and laying him down on his side on the chair, Urianger let the sight of him sink in, and remarked: “That he hath somehow not vomited, I shall consider it a miracle.”_

_“I wonder if he learned those dance moves from Captain Lyna; they looked familiar,” Lamlyn thought out loud._

_Magnus chuffed with a lopsided grin, “That was more entertaining to watch than any of those dancers could ever dream of being… Also, the waiter brought out our food while all of that was happening, and nobody noticed. I think it’s cold, now. Except for Grenoldt; he finished his food and drink both and wandered off."_

_Looking back down to the table, Lamlyn’s expression changed. "Hold on a minute. The bottle of absinthe that Thancred ordered; it moved over to where Grenoldt was sitting.” Peering into the weaponsmith’s empty cup confirmed his suspicions. “Grenoldt snuck some of the absinthe while nobody was looking! Where did he go?!"_

_Immediately, Y’shtola closed her eyes, and reached out with her mind, searching for the color of his aether…_

_“I’ve found him. He’s still here, he’s merely--” Her eyes snapped back open, and a realization seemed to hit her like a stampeding chocobo. “Oh, goodness…”_

_In the back of the room, behind a spiral staircase, she found the aetheric silhouette of Grenoldt laying flat on the floor, tangled up with a certain other silhouette whose color she recognized from the Source._

_“… Well, Grenoldt is having a private discussion with Lady Mowen, so security shall deal with them in their own time. As for us, I see no reason why tonight’s shenanigans should keep the rest of us from having a meal. Shall we?”_

_The vision faded back to white, and finally ended._

The first sound that reached Rahela’s ears as she phased out of her vision and back into reality was the sound of Alisaie utterly howling with laughter. Incoherent, pounding-the-table hysterical laughter. Looking at Y’shtola and Urianger’s satisfied expressions, it seemed they’d finished recounting the story she’d just witnessed through the Echo. Rahela had to massage her eyelids because that was just. A lot. Alphinaud and Ryne, for their part, were both wincing in secondhand embarrassment.

(It didn’t look like the Echo had triggered for Ryne, though. Thank the gods. Rah didn’t want the girl to actually see her father getting _that_ drunk. Or, even worse, to see Grenoldt and Mowen engaged in drunken heavy petting.)

Clearing his throat and attempting to speak over Alisaie’s raucous laughing, Alphinaud remarked to Shtola and Uri, “That is _uncannily_ similar to how events unfolded on our side; Rahela, too, ordered a drink at dinner that got her intoxicated with alarming speed.”

“At the Second Serving?” Y’shtola questioned, but then quickly understood, giving Rah a knowing look. “The catmint tea?”

Sheepishly folding her ears down, Rahela muttered, “Yes…”

“Aye, you’re never truly prepared for the first time you try it. My sympathies, old friend.” Addressing Alphinaud once again, she asked, “I take it Rahela embarrassed herself in public, as well?”

Rah sank into her chair with a pout, while Alphinaud tried valiantly to soothe the sting of it. "As I told Rahela before, we don't think any differently of her for having seen her get, ah… getting what some would call… 'high as a kite.'"

Another snort from Alisaie, and Rah sank further down into her chair.

"But yes, the catmint did have a marked effect on her; at first she was spacey and mellow, entranced by everything she saw, from the ceiling to her plate of spaghetti. And then, as we were preparing to leave, she became lethargic, and had to be carried to the Temenos Rookery. And at the sight of so many amaro and chocobos, she became ecstatic, and began exuberantly bouncing around all over the place, tackling and hugging and petting each and every one of them; thankfully the creatures did not seem too bothered by her enthusiasm, so they let her continue until she tired herself out and fell asleep, facedown in the feathers of a Berube Skipper. At which point, we decided to end the doe party there and brought Rahela home safely."

Ryne looked down, contemplating and comparing the two stories in her head. "That does sound similar to what happened to Thancred; though, I'm not sure how to feel about either of those stories…"

Finally, by now Alisaie had calmed down enough to manage to form a complete sentence; “Oooh, good gods above… If anything, I think this serves as proof that Thancred and Rahela were made for each other." Leaning on her elbows with an ear-to-ear grin, she explained, "Stupidly trying a drink you'd never tried before and had ample warning about, losing your wits and making a public spectacle of yourselves, before forcing your friends to drag your unconscious bodies back home? The two of you are both so, _so_ ridiculous.”

The other Scions (save Ryne, bless her heart) couldn’t resist the urge to chuckle in agreement; Rah still felt a bit bad for Thancred, and for her own incident in the Rookery, but that their friends took their mutual embarrassment as a sign of their compatibility? She could manage a smile at that.

The others decided to remain in Rahela’s apartment for the night; sort of the sleepover that Ryne had wanted, but didn’t quite get. While the other Scions helped themselves to Rahela’s various bedrolls and blankets stored around the apartment, the Waters family had bed privileges; mother and daughter situated themselves on the bed, with Thancred in between them.

Leaning down to rest her head on his shoulder, Rahela mused aloud, “You know, Ryne? The others can laugh, but I think he looks beautiful like this.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” Ryne said, shrugging as she laid down. “But, I don't think I’m in much of a position to judge. For me, it's enough that you both got back safe.”

“Thanks, sweetling. I’m glad it turned out okay, too. Despite the shenanigans.”

"But now I'm wondering if the Queen Bee will do our makeup for the ceremony. Gaia's whole style works for her, but I don't think it would for you, and it definitely didn't work for me. Plus I don't think she'll want to do it anymore anyway after tonight…"

"It's probably for the best; knowing me, I'll just cry the whole time and ruin any makeup I wear, no matter who puts it on," Rahela admitted.

"Well, either way, I think you'll look beautiful, with it or without it."

At that, Rahela grinned wide, and ruffled the girl's hair. "But we're definitely gonna need sleep for that to happen. Tonight got a bit crazy, but it's gotta end at some point."

"Alright," Ryne yawned. "G'night, mum. Love you."

"Love you, toooo."

Rahela wasn't sure when she finally drifted off, but when she next opened her eyes, it was as the shoulder serving as her pillow shifted under her head. That movement was soon accompanied by a low, familiar groan, and she looked up to see Thancred in the pale gray morning light, twisting his face in pain.

Leaning over him, she whispered, "Thanny? Lovey, are you okay?"

Opening his eyes a crack and then immediately screwing them shut with another agonized noise, he mumbled, "Godsdammit, everything hurts…"

Delicately, Rah brushed his bangs out of his eyes, she reassured him, "It's okay, lovey, it’s just me; nothing bad happened while you were blacked out. Shtola and Uri brought you home safe."

With a mighty effort, Thancred raised his arm until its shadow fell over his eyes; then he opened them. For a long moment, he stared at the frilly sleeve hovering over his face. "… Define, 'nothing bad.'"

"… Well, uh…" Rahela wasn't sure if he would react well or not, so she decided to break it to him slowly. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I took two shots of absinthe, then it's all sort of a blur…"

“Well…”

"… For the love of Thaliak, not _again…"_ Thancred groaned once he'd sat up and seen the bustle that the Queen Bee had forced him into.

 _"Again?"_ Rah repeated, a bit confused. "Have you worn a dress before?"

"I got my Archonship in espionage, Rah. You have to learn some _weird_ things in espionage."

"I'll… take your word for it. You look nice, though. Better than nice, in fact; you shouldn't be embarrassed about it."

She could have sworn she'd seen a redness coloring his cheeks that wasn't just from the rouge. "… Thank you, Dove."

Ryne's voice came from outside of their peripheral; "Good morning!" Looking from behind the carved wooden partition, Thancred and Rahela saw that everyone else was already awake. 

Urianger greeted the hungover hyur with a mischievous smile. "Didst the sleeping beauty enjoy his verdant fae-blessed repose?"

"Oh, ha-ha-- _huuurgh…"_ Thancred's deadpan response quickly turned into him cringing in pain and clutching at his temple. Out of concern, Rah laid a hand flat on his back. Then, a hissing sound escaped his teeth. “ _Fffffff… uuuugh…_ This is… _beyond_ unfair. ’m not even in my body, why do I still get hangovers…?”

Without looking up from her book, Y'shtola asked, “Was that an actual question, or are you just complaining?”

His frown only got deeper and he sagged his shoulders. “… Just complaining.”

“We - anticipated that - hangovers - would be an issue," Alisaie explained, casually doing squats by the window. "That’s why we - had the parties - be two nights before - the actual ceremony - and not one. No need - to thank us.”

The space of one day to buffer the wild parties from the ceremony where everyone needed to look better than their best; a genius idea, as expected of the two Sharlayan prodigies. Rah was about to remark upon this when at that moment, she spotted Ryne approaching the side of the bed holding two mugs full of water, and a large bowl with several slices of various fruits. Bananas, cantaloupes, oranges, rolanberries…

While Rahela tried to remember if she'd actually had those fruits in her pantry and when and where she'd bought them, Ryne held both the bowl and the mugs out to her surrogate parents. "Here you go, you two."

“Mm, thank you, Ryne," Rah said. “I was feeling pretty famished…”

"Aye, there’s a good…” Thancred mumbled most of the sentence, and then forgot how he was going to end it, then eventually decided to correct this mistake by making up his own term of endearment: “... smol.”

At that moment, a knocking sound interrupted the quiet, peaceful air in the room. All heads turned to look at the door.

A few seconds passed, before a familiar voice called out, muffled slightly by the thick wood: "Hello?"

Ears perking up, Rahela calls back, “G’raha?” She hopped out of bed and hurried to the door. And opening it, the Exarch stood in the doorway, smiling brightly and holding a basket of sandwiches similar to the kind he'd first left in her room upon her return from Il Mheg, and a few more times since. 

Looking behind Rah, G'raha seemed surprised to see the other Scions in her apartment with her, but pleasantly so. “Oh, you're all here! That makes everything much more convenient. But, good morning, friends! I finally finished my officiants' speech last night, right as Lyna and Lamlyn informed me of what transpired at the doe and stag parties; so, I thought making some breakfast sandwiches for everyone would not go amiss.”

And lo and behold, there were fourteen sandwiches slices (or seven whole sandwiches) balanced perfectly in the basket; enough for all the Scions.

"Thank you!" She said, happily swishing her tail for the thoughtful gift. "And I'm glad you're done with your speech! Why don't you stay for breakfast and eat with us?"

Ruby eyes blinking in surprise at the offer, the Exarch shook his head 'no,' and said, "I appreciate it, Rah, but there's exactly seven sandwiches, and exactly seven of you--"

"You can have mine," Thancred's voice called out from behind the wooden partition. "I've already got a fruit salad."

"--Oh. Then, in that case, I fear I've run out of arguments against my staying. Very well. Today's the rehearsal, so I suppose we all need to keep up our energy!"


	8. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rahela catches a glimpse into pasts both near and distant through her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that this chapter contains references to this short poem fic written for me by my one of my very best friends, elebuu!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405916  
> I highly encourage you to read this first before you continue with this chapter! Both for the context of it being how Thancred confessed his love for Rahela, and because elebuu is a goddamn genius of a writer.

The rehearsal that afternoon had gone smoothly enough; the only thing that needed rehearsing was the wedding procession at the beginning of the ceremony, where the Exarch, Thancred, the wedding party, and finally Rahela and Feo Ul would walk down the aisle, their entrances set to the piano music that would be played by Thiuna, with her having taken the extra malm to learn not one, but _three_ piano songs for the ceremony.

Thancred and G'raha would enter first from the side and stand at the altar; at that point the wedding party would enter, one bridesmaid and groomsman at a time, and then the honor attendants, and finally Taynor, carrying the rings (proudly forged by the Iron Bellows!) inside a simple, but elegant miniature treasure coffer; for all of that, Thiuna would play a gracefully rising-and-falling prelude.

Then, once _'Twilight Over Thanalan'_ began playing, Ryne would head down the aisle, and scatter flower petals along as she walked; they used fakes for the rehearsal, but the real thing would have her scatter gorgeous, bioluminescent petals, graciously given by the Hortorium for the occasion; Ryne, however, had run out of practice petals three-quarters of the way down the aisle and, after shaking the basket to get out any that might have gotten stuck, she awkwardly power-walked the rest of the way to her spot. That was Feo Ul’s cue to begin walking Rahela down the aisle; or rather, Rahela would walk on her own, while Feo would hover next to her and hold her hand while doing so. And that would be the point, during the real ceremony, where the enchantment on Thancred's vision would lift, and he would finally, _finally_ see his bride.

But, practicing and perfecting the beginning of the ceremony just made the bride- and groom-to-be all the more anxious for tomorrow. They were so, so ready for it to finally happen; despite everything having come together remarkably quickly, it had felt like months had gone by in no time at all. Even so, perhaps to spite the frenetic last few… Days? Weeks? How long had all of this taken? She hadn’t been keeping track. Despite the recent hecticness with getting everything planned and ready, tonight was perfectly calm.

… So calm, in fact, that as soon as dinner in the Waters apartment was over, Thancred decided to lean further into his previous bit of calling himself an old man, and decided to turn in early for the night. Rahela, however, presented the idea that he might actually be so hasty in going to bed out of impatience for it to just be tomorrow already. And when she playfully asked if Thancred really was that excited to finally marry her and see her again, he answered by rolling over in bed and turning his back to her, neither confirming or denying it.

Rah and Ryne had a giggle at this, and they both loudly proclaimed that they would enjoy their dessert, the rest of the cake scraps, without him. A threat that he brushed off by saying he didn't want to spoil the surprise of the real cake by snacking on mere crumbs of it. The light-hearted banter continued for a while, until Ryne finally admitted that she agreed with Thancred’s idea of going to bed early on the night before a busy day, and that in turn caused Rahela to cave. 

To his credit, Thancred only preened a little bit at his small victory as the bedsheets seemingly lifted on their own and stayed up, meaning that Rahela had tucked in next to him. Ryne bade them sweet dreams as she turned the light off and climbed into her own bed only a short distance away.

Snuggling up to her groom-to-be and laying her head on his chest, Rahela whispered to him, "So, you are actually excited? Not nervous at all? I've actually been a bit surprised at how well you've been handling all of this."

"Were you expecting me to _not_ handle this well?" Thancred asked, a bit incredulously.

"No, but…" Rahela flicked her ears, trying to think of how she wanted to say it. "I never thought marriage would be a thing that we considered. I guess it might have been because we were so busy with focusing on Eorzea, Ishgard, Ala Mhigo, and Doma, but… I don't know, neither of us really gave much thought to our future as a relationship."

Staring at the ceiling while his hand felt for Rah’s shoulder and eventually found it, he mused, "Up until I was brought here, we were content to stay as we were; two warriors who found a unique sort of happiness and comfort in the other."

"Because there was always some mission. We were always getting separated, one of us was always leaving for distant lands… So we just enjoyed what little time we could spend together…"

"… With the unspoken knowledge that the mission always meant that we couldn't give a hypothetical marriage or family the proper work and effort that it deserved…"

"… And then you were taken to this new mission, and had to spend five years waiting for me.”

"The mission couldn’t properly start until you’d arrived, though. And I certainly didn't wait in idleness; two years in Kholusia and Eulmore, and then training Ryne… And it goes without saying that my… unresolved issues were dragged back to the surface, so that preoccupied my mind for most of the time. I missed you, to be sure, but at the time, I had assumed you were safe while the Exarch worked on summoning you… But, once Urianger arrived together with Y'shtola, and he told us of his 'vision' of the Eighth Umbral Calamity… Well, learning of your impending death, I… It certainly didn't help matters. The time and distance away from you took its toll on me; and I’m sure that your experience wasn’t any less harrowing."

"… No, it wasn’t… I wasn't okay, after you were called away from your body. At all. I was so, so sick of losing you. Whether it was to external issues, or…” Or the strain that grieving for Minfilia, and then Papalymo, had put on them both. “And when you nearly got yourself killed again, I guess I just couldn't take it anymore."

"You know, I was actually a bit relieved, when you came to see me in my hospital bed, after the eater attack." Rahela sat up in bed to watch Thancred's expression as he explained, "It may sound silly, but the way you half-tackled me back down onto the bed, and kissed all over my face… It was a small comfort of sorts. The reassurance that you… That you still…"

Rah's ears folded down. "… That I still loved you?"

A rueful smile crossed his face. "Looking back at everything; from the drinking and evading issues, to the constant absence, to the brusqueness… I wouldn't have blamed you in the slightest if you decided to end things with me, at any point. From the very beginning, I was never an easy man to love, and I've only ever made it harder. You deserve far, far better than me, and I can think of at least three other men off the top of my head who would make a far better match for you than I. But, against all odds and logic, you continually insist on me."

"I mean," Rahela said, poking him in the abdomen. "I'm not gonna lie and say it hasn't been tough. But, love’s not just a feeling; it’s a choice, too. I chose you, and you’ve made it worth it."

He smiled again, and sighed through his nose. Hugging her close, he whispered words of poetry that Rah knew by heart, but had never actually heard in his own voice:

_“As goes war with your fierce wielding, so goes mercy with thee, my dove, my only; and, if my tremolo should fail me, know my song is one of all I give. Of love.”_

A squeaking noise escaped Rah's throat. _"Thanc--_ you--! You still remember…?"

"Aye. And how far we've come since then…"

Now blushing, and suddenly feeling quite self-conscious, Rahela stammered, "… S-sorry, Ryne, we're just having an entire, intimate conversation and you can hear all of it…"

"It's alright," Ryne reassured from the other side of the room. "But I can warm up some milk if you need help getting to sleep. Or, I could go get some dream powder."

"Th-thanks, sweetling, but we'll manage." She was about to lay down, when she remembered: "Oh, but, we were so quick to go to bed, we forgot to ask if there’s any last-minute things that we still need. Is everything okay on your end?"

"Well… There was that part at the rehearsal where I ran out of practice petals part of the way through my walk down the aisle; it's a long stretch between Rotunda and the Dossal Gate, so I'm not sure if there's enough real petals to cover the whole thing. But I don't think it should be any trouble to ask Hortology for more of them."

Another, bittersweet smile crossed Thancred's face. He murmured low, seemingly to himself: _"Flowers for all…"_

Flowers, huh… Rah nuzzled into his chest, wondering. She was glad she'd chosen the forget-me-nots for the bouquet, and not for what the flower girl threw on the ground for her to tread upon. It was a deliberate defiance of the notion that she _'walked a path paved with the dead.'_ Instead, she wanted to carry the memories of the dead _with_ her. And though the flowers from Hortology were pretty, and they would light up the ground underneath her at night, she did still want a personal touch for Ryne's flowers, too…

… Well, she would sleep on it. That, and everything else she had to think about. She closed her eyes, and…

_The tapping of feet on tiled, striated pavement. Walking hand-in-hand, happily in tandem with my family. Laughing with the man I love most, and our child, lifting and swinging the little one upward into the air._

_I recognize these streets… These patterns of rippling diamonds… These were the streets of Amaurot that I was walking upon. And looking at my hand, my husband, my daughter… We were, all of us, wearing the cowls and masks worn by all the Ancient peoples…_

_But, that wouldn’t be weird, would it? This is what we wear every day, isn’t it…?_

_Wait… I couldn’t feel my ears. Or my tail. Or, should I have them in the first place…?_

_Looking to my love, he’s got a lock of white hair hanging out from his shadowy hood to serve as a distinguishing feature; I can’t even see the mask itself, or if it’s white or red. Am I looking at Thancred, or at…? And looking down at the child, is that Ryne, or…_

_Is this just a dream? Or, am I seeing my… no, Persephone's memories? Am I dreaming about being her? Or, being myself?_

**_"Is there a problem, dearest? You look shocked, all of a sudden."_ **

_Hearing my love speak out of concern, I automatically answer with,_ **_"S-sorry, it’s nothing, uh…"_ ** _I shrink, unable to ascribe one name or another to this person. I can’t even tell from the voice; it’s an indistinct, ethereal blend of several voices. I stammer out,_ **_"A, uh, a bug flew by my head and it startled me, that's all."_ **

**_"We'll be inside soon, Mum, but we need to hurry!"_** _Our daughter says, squeezing my hand and hopping impatiently as she walks._ **_"We can't be late to the show!"_**

_We turn the next corner and up the ramp into a building. Grand double doors open up to an even grander lobby of golden polished marble. Our arrival doesn't slow down our daughter's rush in the slightest, as she all but drags us along across the lobby, past desks manned by other Amaurotines, and towards another pair of double doors. And past these doors, we see--_

_\--Some sort of theater, except in the place of a stage, the audience's seats are directed towards--_

_\--What?_

_An enormous box fills up the entire front wall of the room, with a curved glass screen and grey metal frame around it. I’ve seen that sort of monitor before, but where? And what in the world is such a thing doing here…?_

_My love and our daughter, however, don't seem to consider anything to be amiss, and they lead me down the rows of seats until we all sit ourselves in the center seats of the front row, staring at the screen in excitement…_

_The screen blinks to life, divided in twain by two colors: blue and silver. Then, a silhouette of silver appears within the blue side of the screen: a shape distinctly that of a young, raggedly-dressed hyuran boy, holding a pair of daggers in his hands._

**_“Once upon a time, there lived an orphan in a city by the sea. He’d been alone his whole life, abandoned by his parents before he was old enough to remember them. Every morning he woke up hungry, and every day he had to struggle, had to both inflict and endure horrible things, had to fight and use his agility and wits to just to live to see the next morning; and his only reward for surviving was another day of hunger and struggling. It was the only life he knew. He couldn’t weep for his lost childhood, because he’d never had a childhood to lose. A heart can’t break when it was never whole in the first place.”_ **

_Then, a silhouette of blue appears within the silver side of the screen, forming into the shape of a miqo’te girl, clinging to a moogle doll as if it were her only friend in the world._

**_“Once upon a time, there lived a girl in a town between the desert and the ocean. She wasn’t strong or smart when she was little; and for siring such a weak child, her father was beaten and humiliated before he finally departed in shame, never to return. This, in turn, seemed to serve as proof to everyone that the girl wouldn't survive to adulthood in such a harsh environment. And some days, with the children bullying her and the adults ignoring her, it seemed that her village was trying to ensure exactly that. They regarded her as a nuisance at best, and a waste of precious resources at worst; and as the village fell on hard times, she couldn't bring herself to disagree with them. Always having to rely on her mother, or on the kindness of passing strangers, she feared being crushed under her feelings of worthlessness, and wished to walk free, but knew not how…"_ **

**_"A boy who couldn't trust anyone and never felt the unconditional love of a family…"_ **

**_"… And a girl who dreamed of seeing beyond her desert and finding somewhere kinder, but feared she wouldn't survive the journey…"_ **

_The silhouettes both change; they progress from children to adults, and the stark colors fade to a real scene: that of the newly-minted adventurer Rahela, standing at the Sultantree, turning to look behind her and seeing Thancred for the first time._

**_"… They made it out, and they found each other.”_ **

_I watch their--our?--story as it plays out in front of me. Every glance, every smile, every conversation, no matter if it was momentous or mundane. Seeing all of this, these moments from a third-person perspective, it’s… strange._

_From a friendly humdrum conversation over Triple Triad at the Quicksand, to him watching her from afar as she performed her heroics all across Eorzea, to them grinning and waving at each other as she entered the Solar for the first time, to him visibly struggling not to panic as she collapsed from the wounds Ifrit inflicted upon her during the sprint back to Drybone. At the time, Rahela’s—my?—head was so foggy from the burns, the heat stroke, and the dehydration, to the point where she only remembered being cradled tightly in his arms as he ran. But now, I’m actually watching him see to her recovery, getting her out of her excessive layers of cloth armor and gently giving her sips of water, helping the healers tend to her with obvious pain and worry writ upon his features…_

_Though, for all the worry she’d given him that time, he got her back tenfold in the aftermath of the Praetorium._

_Thancred saying that the living host of an Ascian’s soul had no memory of their time possessed had been mostly true. He didn’t have any memory of Lahabrea cornering the sylph elder Frixio or enraging the spider-scorpion in Toto-rak, nor of approaching Wilred or Lady Amandine. But, during times when the Ascian was feeling particularly sadistic, he would periodically let Thancred ‘watch’ during select times of his possession; more often than not, the times when he chose to torment Rahela and Minfilia. And the Praetorium was one of those times… So, Thancred could only watch helplessly, as his tormentor used his body to try and kill the ones he loved…_

_Whether he had control over them or not, it was still his hands that cast Ultima; that tried to choke the life out of the woman who fought through steel and fire to save him…_

_Guilt and shame… Pain and aches… That deep, disgusting violation of his autonomy, of his body…_

_… There was only ever one other time he’d felt that low before._

**_"So… do you actually write poems, or no…?"_ **

_But, against all expectation, against all sense, his hands held no fear for her._

_She laid beside him in a Frondale's Phrontistery bed, with both of them still wearing their patients' tunic; his Ascian tormenter had starved his host body for weeks, leaving him barely alive once abandoned. And between Nero, Gaius, Ultima, Lahabrea, and casting Meteor, she herself had sustained enough injuries in Operation Archon to warrant a stay in the hospital as well; but unlike him, she could at least walk across the room from her bed to his. They'd spent a long time talking about so many little things that she didn't remember a lot of it anymore. But this…_

_He looked down, his features still a bit gaunt._ **_"Aye, I did, but… not since the Calamity. No time. So, I'm five years out of practice."_ **

_She tapped her tail against the bedspread._ **_"Well, you have some time on your hands now. Do you wanna try writing again, while you’re getting better? Maybe ask one of the attendants for a quill and parchment?"_ **

**_"You're right about having time, but…"_ ** _He admitted,_ **_"I'm ashamed to admit, I would probably struggle to hold a quill steady enough to write with. Worse yet, my writing muse vanished long ago, and I doubt I could muster it up now."_ **

**_"Fair point,"_ ** _she conceded._ **_"Still, it couldn’t hurt to try; but only once you're feeling up to it. Or, how does this sound: if you're worried about making it up to me, then all you need to do is get better. Better enough to write a poem."_ **

_Eyes widening in surprise, he was stunned into silence for a short moment._ **_"I… Ah… If that's all, then… Very well."_ **

**_“I might write one, too; I’ve never written any kind of poem before, so I’ll trust your judgement on how good I am.”_ **

**_“That’s all subjective though; I mean, obviously things like prose and technique are important, but not as important as making sure the words express what you intend to express. As long as a poem accomplishes that, then that’s enough.”_ **

**_“Huh…”_ ** _She contemplated his words for a moment before smiling._ **_“I think I can do that.”_ **

_Rahela and Thancred making a full recovery was an occasion celebrated with everyone gathering in the Solar for a feast; Cid, Biggs, Wedge, Tataru, Alphinaud, Y’shtola, Urianger, Lyse… Papalymo, and Minfilia…_

_… But that happy scene fades away, and the story moves onto that of a familiar table and chair in the common room of the Waking Sands. He sat slumped in the chair, while she stood in front of him. She remembered this; from when he was seeing her off to her second bout with Ifrit._

**_"… Doubtless you remember Minfilia's words, but this Ifrit is a far cry from the primal you first defeated. You will want to assemble your most dependable comrades for the mission."_ ** _He hesitated, and reached up to close his hand around hers._ **_"So, please… Be safe, Rah…"_ **

_With the pleading in his voice more than apparent, she had been a bit taken aback, but not in a bad way. She smiled, giving his wrist a reassuring squeeze._ **_"Don’t worry. I'll be back, I promise."_ **

_She turned on her heels and made her way out of the Sands in a hurry. But now, seeing this from a third person perspective, I could see how he had watched her leave; keeping his eyes on her until she'd turned the corner and was out of sight, his sweet brown eyes full of worry, he seemed so… lost._

_The scene fades out again, and is soon replaced by a scene that couldn’t have been witnessed by Rahela; Thancred and Minfilia, standing on either side of the desk in the Waking Sands’ Solar. And he looked… distraught, pacing and gesturing as he spoke._

**_"This is ridiculous. I fear I may have truly lost my senses. I trust the intelligence we received from the Immortal Flames. And I know in my head that she’ll be fine and that she’ll return home safe. I’ve seen how strong she is. Hells, I've been on the receiving end of that strength! I’ve watched her grow from a fledgeling adventurer into a true Warrior of Light. There’s no reason for me to fear for her safety or think that this will be anything like the first time! But I can’t stop myself from worrying that she’ll be hurt again!”_ **

_Minfilia listened to him, her expression equal parts contemplative and mischievous. But her tone remained one of concern as she inquired,_ **_“So though you know you have no rational reason to do so, your heart fears for Rahela…?”_ **

_He shook his head, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed._ **_“I can’t understand why, but I feel sick at heart just to think about it. Ifrit nearly killed her the first time, and left her so beaten and broken that she could barely stand from the agony of her burns. And even after getting her to safety, she was still in such terrible pain…”_ ** _His fingers gripped the fabric of his sleeves, knuckles turning white._ **_“Even the notion that she might so suffer a second time, while I, once again, can’t do anything to help her… That even now, after everything, I might…"_ **

_A small, knowing, upward tilt of Minfilia’s lips._ **_“... You might lose her?”_ **

**_“--Say that again?”_ **

**_“You're afraid of losing her,”_ ** _she stated, plainly, her smile growing._ **_"Even though your mind knows all the reasons why such a fear is irrational, the worry is too much for your heart to bear, and all you wish is to fly to her side and protect her from all who would dare to harm her."_ **

_He frowned, his cheeks tinged slightly with pink._ **_“Gods, Minfilia, when you say it like that, you make it sound as though I’m—”_ **

**_“In love with Rahela?”_ **

**_“—Minfilia!”_ **

**_“Is that not how you feel, then?”_ **

_He was about to retort and outright deny it, but stopped himself._ **_“I… I do admit, I would not find fault with anyone else for falling for her. She's the realm's greatest hero, but she's stayed the same, caring, endearing person she's been since the day I met her. You'd have to be a fool to not fall for a woman like her."_ ** _A soft smile crossed his face, and he closed his eyes._ **_"True to her clan, she's like a radiant Sun on a spring day; so warm, so bright, so gentle, and beautiful, and comforting… She's openhearted, kind, sweet, sincere, earnest… But also strong, and determined, with an unyielding will. One can't help but feel inspired in her presence. She encourages you, you feel as though you can take on the world. She smiles at you, and your spirit is uplifted. She makes a meal for you, and you can barely keep yourself together from how much care and love she put into it. She hugs you, your heart leaps for joy, and you hug her back, never wanting to… let her… go…"_ **

_His eyes reopened and widened, face heating up as he realized how he sounded. Slowly he turned his head to look behind him, desperately hoping to the seven heavens that all of that was only internal monologue._

_The knowing, ear-to-ear grin on Minfilia's face instantaneously dashed all those hopes._

**_"… Oh gods, oh hells, ohhhhh, fuuuuuuuuuuugh…"_ ** _Burying his blushing face in his hands, he sunk to his knees with a long groan._

 **_"Never did I think I would live to see the day,"_ ** _Minfilia gleefully laughed,_ **_"The serial flirt, finding himself utterly and hopelessly besotted with the chaste young maiden!"_ **

**_"Yes, yes, Minfilia, no doubt you see this as a poetic justice on par with the Black Wolf falling to a Black Mage of the Wolf tribe,"_ ** _he grumbled, slightly muffled as his forehead firmly pressed against her desk._ **_"But gloating won't help the situation in the slightest. I've recognized my feelings for her, so now what?"_ **

**_"Heeheehee… Haaa, my apologies, old friend…"_ ** _Getting out the last few giggles, Minfilia cleared her throat._ **_"But, I do not believe you require my input for this; though, if you have reservations about pursuing a relationship with your fellow Scion, I give you my fullest blessing, both as Antecedent and as a dear friend to both of you."_ **

_Lifting his head off the desk, he explained,_ **_“That much is appreciated, but that’s not the most pressing issue in my mind; however I feel for her is rendered completely moot if she doesn’t feel the same. And I’m fairly sure that she doesn’t.”_ **

_Less-than-pleased with this conclusion he’d apparently come to, Minfilia crossed her arms._ **_“What makes you so certain of that?”_ **

**_“I could tell she was smitten with me before all this. But… just like the rest of my past admirers, she could only see the façade of bravado and confidence and strength. After how far she’s seen me fall…”_ ** _Gazing at his hand, his stomach turned at the memory of his fingers clamping around her throat, black metal claws pricking her skin…_ **_“After all I’ve done to hurt her, I doubt that even she could truly…”_ **

_A moment of pause, then Minfilia asked:_ **_“You presume to know her feelings?”_ **

_He looked at her, quirking his brow._ **_“… Do you know something that I don’t?”_ **

**_“‘Tis not my place to say,”_ ** _she deflected._ **_“But it is not out of guilt or pity that she has stayed by your side during your long and arduous recovery. The only advice I can give you is to be honest with yourself, and with Rahela.”_ **

_He turned, about to ask Minfilia if the Warrior of Light had confided in her with something about him, when a knock at the Solar door interrupted the conversation, followed by a familiar, frantic lalafellin voice._

**_“Antecedent! Antecedent, help! There’s at least a score of business representatives out here, all demanding to see you! I can’t keep them all away!”_ **

_The scene changed again, to another scene that Rahela was never privy to; that of Thancred in his room in the Sands. Sitting at his desk, leaning over a roll of parchment, quill in one hand, and his head in the other. He’d struggled for hours, (or even days, he wasn’t keeping track) with one false start after another, crumbled-up balls of parchment piling up on the floor._

_… Until, eventually, he finally penned a number of verses that he found he liked, before rolling it up and sealing it with a ribbon._

**_“Out of shadowlessness, I am without calling,”_ ** _he sighed the poem’s title aloud, before softly stepping into her room and laying the parchment on the desk beside her bed, where she could easily find it…_

_… Where it would lay untouched for a good while, for that same day was when Alphinaud announced his proposal for the Scions to leave Vesper Bay. And from there began a whirlwind series of events that involved a great deal of running around; the return of F’lhaminn, the preparations for the Scions’ move, a moogle primal, and someone finding a buffalo calf in a disused linen closet with nobody claiming responsibility for it… And the Warrior found herself unable to return to her room for even a moment, and unable to find the parchment that he had left for her, until she’d finally gotten around to packing her own belongings for the move to Revenant’s Toll._

_And once she’d taken a good ten or so minutes to regain her composure, she set about writing her reply, and left it on top of his bed._

_He managed to find and read the note on the Scions’ very last night in the Waking Sands; his heart in his throat, he unfurled the parchment, not knowing what to expect…_

_To Thancred,  
  
_ _Innocent touches and gentle smiles  
  
_ _Lying within them are quiet hopes  
_ _Of a deeper connection, in body and soul  
_ _Violent battles may come our way, but  
_ _Every trial will be worth it as long as you’re here  
  
_ _Yearning for you is a girl who’s never been kissed  
_ _Oh, my only fear is us never being together again at all  
_ _Until you smile and speak warmly to me again, my heart waits._  
  
_\- Rahela ♥︎_

_Upon reading it, he made a noise that sounded like a scream, but with his lips closed. She’d written for him a bloody acrostic poem spelling out, ‘I LOVE YOU.’ In other circumstances it would be so corny, but. She wrote it with such complete sincerity that being the recipient of such feelings was. Beyond overwhelming. She even drew a little heart next to her signature. Gods dammit all. He proceeded to pace around the room. He couldn’t deal with this. He reread it. How did this happen? He paced some more. How did someone like her look at a failure like him, after seeing him at his worst, after everything she’d suffered because of him, and still, STILL see someone worth loving? He screamed into a pillow, and before long, started butting his head against the wall to try and think of how to respond to this._

_Because, he loved her. And despite his not understanding the reason why, she loved him back._

_And his feet eventually led him to her room. He still didn’t know what to say, or do; so for now, he settled for leaning against her door, continuing to wrack his brain…_

_… Until the door opened inward and sent him tumbling forward and directly into her._

**_“--Shite!”_ **

**_“--Hhurck!”_ **

_Gravity left the two a groaning heap of limbs on the floor, until they opened their eyes and realized how close they were. Nose-to-nose, looking right into each other’s eyes. Face turning pink, he got up just enough to put his weight on his elbows so that he wasn’t crushing her, and shifted slightly to the side to give her room to get out from under him. But she didn’t; her teal eyes wide and slit pupils dilating, and her hands on his shoulders… They both stared at the other, knowing how the other felt, but neither quite sure what to do now._

_Finally, he thought to ask the most obvious question:_ **_“Are you hurt…?”_ **

**_“No, I’m… I’m fine,”_ ** _She said, albeit shakily. The tint of pink on her striped cheeks turned a bright red, and she bowed her head in embarrassment._ **_”I… I read your poem.”_ **

_That much had been obvious, but its acknowledgement was enough to render him uncharacteristically nervous._ **_“I know. And I read yours.”_ **

_A barely audible whine escaped from her closed lips. Folding her ears down, she asked,_ **_“It was bad, wasn’t it? Really, really corny, and stupid… I did warn you I’d never written anything before in my life…”_ **

**_“No, no, I… I told you, the most important thing in a poem is for the reader to be able to understand the meaning you intended. And, well… I understood.”_ **

_She gulped, and her hands squeezed at his shoulders._ **_“… And?”_ **

_A slow, shaky breath. His hands gently brushing against and cupping her cheeks._

**_“… Sorry, this is as overwhelming for me as it is for you…”_ ** _He had to confirm, one last time…_ **_“But, you’re certain about this? You truly want to…?”_ **

_He trailed off, and Rahela finished the sentence._ **_“… Be with you? Of course. And, you want to be with me, too, right…?”_ **

_A moment of silence hung in the air. They held their breaths, not daring to look away from each other, until he closed his eyes, as he leaned down, a sigh leaving his lips, and--_

_Kissed her._

_Her eyes went wide, and a squeak escaped her, but the surprise soon gave way to amazement. Closing her eyes and letting out the breath she was holding, she practically melted upwards into him, curling her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Even her tail lifted upward and curled around his leg, the tip wiggling in excitement._

_In turn, his arms trailed down her body, careful to not venture too close to anywhere sensitive, and snaked underneath her shoulders and waist, before lifting her off the floor as both of them went upright. And, without breaking the kiss, he stood up, kicked the door shut, and moved to sit down on her bed, with her on his lap. She purred in adoration, knowing that her first kiss was with a man as amazing as him, and relishing in his embrace; and he’d never been so thrilled by a kiss in all his life, smiling into her lips and hugging her tight._

_So they remained lost in each other, until they only slightly separated, foreheads gently butting together as they regained their breath. They puffed in unison, both with half-delirious grins on their faces._

_And then, after mere seconds of catching his breath, he darted in for a second kiss. And a third, and a fourth, and he had to all but force himself to stop. But only because she had been starting to look dizzy from all of it. He loosened her grip on her, and drew just far enough away to afford her a chance to properly breathe._

_And after a few moments to regain her bearings, the first words out of her mouth were:_ **_“I’ll… take that as a yes.”_ **

_Nodding, he figured he might as well drive it home._

**_“W’rahela Uillces…”_ ** _He panted out, carding his fingers through her soft, auburn hair._ **_“I love you. And I will most ardently continue to do so, for as long as you wish it.”_ **

_Just hearing the words spoken aloud was enough to make her eyes well up with tears of joy._ **_“Thancred…”_ ** _She began, but then hesitated; and then leaned her forehead into the crook of his neck, before sheepishly admitting,_ **_“… I don’t know what your last name is.”_ **

_Blinking in surprise at that, his lips then twitched. And that twitch turned into a breathy chuckle, before finally culminating with him bursting into laughter and hugging her with renewed vigor._

**_"Wh-what? I know, I should know it, but--"_ **

**_"No, no, don't fret over it,"_ ** _he reassured, his voice still light and happy, giving the back of her neck a few fond, absent-minded scratches._ **_"It's 'Waters.'"_ **

_Fuzzy ears flicked, and she repeated the name, as if to test how it sounded. And evidently, she liked it. Nuzzling into his neck, she hummed, beaming like the sun,_ **_"Thancred Waters… I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone. You're the thief who's stolen my heart. And it's yours to keep."_ **

_(Well, the 'thief' part was true, at least. But she didn't need to know, not yet…_

_… And she also didn't know how it made him feel, for perhaps the first time in his long life, to hear someone say they loved him, and really, truly mean it…)_

**_"A more rare and precious treasure than any I could ever dream of,"_ ** _he crooned to her, lightly touching his fingertips over her heart._ **_"One that I shall treat with the utmost care, my love."_ **

_At the affectionate epithet, another pitched SQUEAK escaped her throat, and she hid her blushing face behind her hands, but nothing could conceal the way her tail went straight up and puffed out to twice its original size._

_Another chuckle left him._ **_“Or maybe a different nickname, to not fluster you too much. Would you mind if I call you ‘Dove’...?”_ **

**_"Like, in the poem…? S-sure, I, I love it…"_ ** _she said, lowering her hands and allowing him to see the bright red on her face. The whole of her seemed to loosen up and slump against him._ **_"Sorry, I dunno how, but I think I’m a bit tired after all that kissing…"_ **

_Scooting further back onto her bed, he lay her down, and commented with a wry smile,_ **_“If I may venture a guess? You might be tired because you’ve fought four primals in about as many days, with barely a wink of sleep the whole time. We’ve all been busy getting ready for the move tomorrow, but not even you are immune to overwork. Get some rest, Dove.”_ **

**_“Mmm…”_ ** _She trilled, nuzzling into his hand._ **_“Only if you stay, too…”_ **

**_“I hadn’t thought that in question,”_ ** _He confessed, making himself comfortable and pulling the duvet over both of them._ **_“Sleep tight.”_ **

**_“Do you think the others will mind about us being together? Minfilia, Yda, and Papalymo already knew about how I felt about you, but…”_ **

**_“Ahh, I had a feeling Minfilia knew something I didn’t. But she’s given us her blessing, so that’s all we really need. If anyone else has an objection, then it’s not really any of their business.”_ **

**_“Something to talk about on the way to Revenant’s Toll, maybe? What time are you leaving, anyroad?”_ **

**_“Bright and early tomorrow; Y’shtola’s my ‘moving buddy,’ so to speak. That’ll be… fun.”_ **

**_“I’m leaving last, together with Minfy. Assuming nothing holds us up, we should be all settled in by this time tomorrow.”_ **

**_“Mm. I’ll make sure we’re in neighboring rooms.”_ **

_A wry grin from him, a flustered giggle from her, and she buried her face in his chest…_

_… And then the scene fades to black, and the lights in the theater come back on. I blink, and I absorb everything that I’d seen._

_Of course. How could I have ever doubted…?_

_I remember what Almet said, in Tiuna's tomb; 'History is learned, not lived.'_

_I was on the verge of losing myself in a past that I hadn't lived, losing the distinction between myself and my predecessor… But remembering how it felt when Thancred kissed me for the first time, and when he first told me he loved me…_

_I do have an image of Persephone and her story, in my mind: long, straight hair of a rich russet color like mine, tumbling over her shoulders and down to her waist; vivid teal irises like mine. Her soul was as blue as the sky, like mine, but that didn't mean that was her favorite color; that distinction belonged to the light green of a sunny, grassy meadow…_

_… Like the meadow outside Amaurot, where she met Hades as a child. In the midst of picking yellow flowers on a hillside with her friends, he took her hand and led her away. They went off to play on their own together, he introduced her to Hythlodaeus, and they got lost for hours and hours and were having so much fun that they never noticed. Her mother had been outraged, and she was almost forced to never see Hades again. But, true love prevailed, and their bond lasted for centuries, for millennia, they had a daughter and lived happily, until they…_

_… Didn’t._

_I don't know the exact details of how things ended between Persephone and Hades, at least not yet. But, even so… She still lived her own life, and she was happy for almost all of it. And I'm still living my own life; I have my own identity, my own experiences, my own preferences, my own loved ones and happiness. And I know she wasn't the kind of person who would make me give that up._

_That little montage only showed how Thancred and I began. With any luck, we won’t see our end for a long, long time._

_I pull back my hood and take off my mask; all at once, I could feel my ears and tail again, and I wiggle them both a little bit in relief. I'm the real me again; I'm Rahela._

_Looking to the two sitting beside me, they smile, and remove their own hoods and masks; sure enough, Thancred and Ryne are there, with warm, affirming smiles on their faces. The two loves of my life._

_At that moment, as if suddenly triggered by the revelation that we weren’t Ancients, our bodies instantaneously shrink to match our normal size within the phantom city._

**_“Are you alright?”_ ** _Ryne asks, leaning towards the side of her seat. **“Did you eat anything strange before going to bed?”**_

 **_“No, no, I’m fine,”_ ** _I reassure her._ **_“But let’s head home.”_ **

**_“No complaints here,”_ ** _Thancred remarks, hopping down from the cushioned chair and down to the floor, and leading the way out once Ryne and I have followed suit._

_It’s so odd, looking back on our history together… Knowing what I know now about souls, I couldn't help but wonder if the bond between Thancred, Ryne, and I stretches back even further than any of us could truly know… And on top of that, separating my present self from my past self didn’t mean I couldn’t still think about the latter. I can see some of Persephone’s memories, but not all of them._

_I know Hades was Persephone’s true love; but even so, was there a possibility that we--me, Thancred, Ryne, and all the other Scions--had all known each other before the Sundering…? It’s a nice thought, that our bond is so strong that it could transcend lifetimes… But it’s not as though there’s anyone who could--or, would--tell me one way or the other…_

_… Is there?_

_At that moment, I hear the sound of something materializing behind me; I turn around, and there I see…_

_An Ancient, sitting behind an oversized merchant’s stall, haphazardly constructed out of wooden planks. And painted on them in large, sloppy letters across the sign at the top are the words,_ **_“THE TRUTH. 5 GIL.”_ ** _And the words painted across the base of the stall read,_ **_“HYTHLODAEUS IS IN.”_ ** _… Except the word ‘in’ had been painted atop a piece of paper stuck on top of the wood, instead of onto the wood itself like everything else._

 _I squint at the sight, finding it strangely familiar, and approach the stall. Hythlodaeus nods to me, his expression imperceivable. He says in the ethereal voice of the Ascian language:_ **_“Hello again, my new old friend…”_ **

_A bit awkwardly, I wave at him._ **_“Hey, Hyth… Long time, no see…”_ **

**_“Well, we’re not truly ‘seeing’ each other,”_ ** _the shade admits._ **_“You’re dreaming, you see.”_ **

**_“Ah. That explains all the… weirdness. Including this setup you’ve got, here.”_ **

**_“If I’m not mistaken, an advice booth like this is a common sight in those newspaper illustrations that your mother enjoys, is it not?”_ **

**_“Oh, that’s right! I remember now.”_ **

_Hythlodaeus rests his chin on his hands, leaning curiously towards me._ **_“So, judging from my presence here, along with this booth, I’m assuming that your mind seeks a truthful source of knowledge from before the Sundering?”_ **

_A stool pops up beside me; naturally, it’s a bit tall, but I manage to climb onto it. And after thinking for a moment, I answer._ **_“I mean, Y’shtola’s already been looking into that—more about Elidibus, the Convocation, and Venat—I trust her to find out more about the important things. But, well… I wanna know the little things.”_ **

**_“And what sort of little things do you wish to know of?”_ **

**_“Like… the flowers that Persephone had in her bouquet when she got married.”_ **

**_“I see… Well… Persey loved flowers a great deal. And she used two in particular for her wedding bouquet: daffodils and asphodels. The former held a special place in her heart; daffodils were the flowers she had been picking upon her first meeting with Hades, and they had been her favorite ever since. And as for the latter? Asphodels were her concept; to mark their marriage, she took inspiration from her beloved groom and created a flower specifically to use for her bridal bouquet.”_ **

**_“So, asphodel flowers were inspired by Hades?”_ **

**_“Yes; and I teased him a great deal about it…”_ ** _The shade enjoys a silent chuckle at the memory, before hanging his head._ **_“Alas, I believe the bloom seems to have taken on a more… funereal meaning in the present day.”_ **

_I look down, and sadly nod._

_Hythlodaeus looks back to me, and asks while canting his head to the side:_ **_"But you’re soon to marry as well, to that man with the silver soul, correct?”_ ** _He gestures to Thancred, waiting for me off in the distance with Ryne._

 **_“Yes,”_ ** _I say, with a smile._ **_“It’s been a long time coming, though I suppose not by your standards.”_ **

**_“And the child next to him, the one with the golden hue, you’re to become her mother…?”_ **

_I smile even wider._ **_“Yes. I never thought I would embrace motherhood so readily, but… It just felt natural.”_ **

**_“I see…”_ ** _Hythlodaeus keeps his focus on them, contemplatively leaning back in his chair._

 _I look up, and nervously flick my ears._ **_“Do you… recognize either of their souls? Were they someone that you and Persephone knew before the Sundering? I know that it was Hades who Persephone loved, but was she at least close to whoever had the silver soul? And, was her daughter the one who had the golden soul back then, too…?”_ **

_Hyth stays quiet for a long moment, until finally answering:_ **_"… Well, I know my sign advertised the truth; but the truth is that I don't know for sure. After all, I’m still a construct of your dream world, thus, what I can tell you is limited. But I can say this much…”_ **

_Ears tilting down, I ask,_ **_“What?”_ **

**_“Even if the three of you were complete strangers in the days before the Sundering, that wouldn’t lessen the love you share now. As romantic as the notion of bonds transcending lifetimes may be, the bonds you form in this lifetime aren’t any weaker or less meaningful for not having that grand history. ‘You are you, and no one else. We are defined not by the soul we are born with, but the path we walk;’ haven’t you been told as much twice already?”_ **

_Not having expected such an answer, I can only gawp in surprise. But of course, he’s right. My falling in love with Thancred wasn’t part of some grand destiny; it doesn’t need to be. Being with him is my choice, and so is my caring for Ryne. Realizing that this was my subconscious telling me what I should have already known, I blush and scratch the back of my head._ **_“Gods, when you put it like that, it sounds so obvious… Now I feel a bit embarrassed for worrying so much.”_ **

**_“Don’t feel bad about it. You are alive, after all. And being alive is pretty much a constant stream of embarrassment.”_ ** _Hythlodaeus lets out a laugh; which is a kind of strange sound, coming from his voice._ **_“But in all seriousness… It’s no crime to wonder, or to be curious about Persey’s life, and her family. Just know that it doesn’t necessarily have any bearing on your own.”_ **

_Flicking my tail, I offer what little self-defense I could._ **_“I swear I don’t fret this much about it during the day…”_ **

**_“That goes for your wedding, as well,”_ ** _Hyth said._ **_“If you would still speak of flowers, I’m curious; what will you have in your bouquet?"_ **

_Of course, that one’s easy._ **_"Forget-me-nots. For remembering all the friends that I love, and miss; they’re the whole reason I’ve come as far as I did… I wish they could see this, but a bouquet of remembrance seemed like the next best thing."_ **

_The shade nods along._ **_“An excellent choice. Are there any other flowers significant to you or your groom?”_ **

_I think for a moment… Ryne needs more flowers for tomorrow… Other flowers…_

_… Wait!_

Rahela’s eyes snapped open.

She was back in Thancred's apartment, laying next to him in bed. At a glance she noted, it was still before dawn. Not daring to make a sound, she listened to his soft, shallow breaths while her mind raced, holding firm onto the dream so that it didn't slip away from her memory.

Of course. How could she not have thought of it before?

Carefully, Rahela slipped out of bed and, making sure Thancred and Ryne were still sleeping soundly, got dressed as quietly as possible.

She searched the dim room for something to write on. Some paper, parchment… a napkin worked.

Once her note was written, she raised a hand to her lips and cast a teleportation spell. She knew exactly what she needed to get, and she knew she could get it if she asked the right people about where to find it; but she would have to move fast…


	9. The Morning Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the morning of the wedding, Rahela is nowhere to be found, and a certain Thancred fanatic is the prime suspect in her disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry y'all

On the morning of the wedding, Thancred woke up to an empty bed.

At first, he thought little of it. Normally Rahela liked to sleep in and cuddle with him in the morning, but today was going to be a busy one. Without opening his eyes, he listened for any sign of movement in the rest of the small apartment, but heard nothing. Thinking she must have gone back to her apartment, Thancred scooted himself out of bed to get himself ready.

But the first thing he laid eyes on gave him pause: on the table was a napkin, soaked through and dyed almost completely black with ink. Someone, he presumed Rahela, had tried to scrawl a message, but the bleeding of the thin paper had left the writing completely illegible.

That was odd…

Heading down to Rahela’s apartment, Thancred unlocked the door with his spare key and opened. He knew he wouldn’t be able to see her, but he could at the very least be able to inquire about the message if she was there…

But when he called out, she wasn’t. 

Concern now itching at the back of his mind, he fished his linkpearl out of his pocket. Wherever she went, there was no way she would leave it behind. He called for Rahela, and…

Her linkpearl rang out on the table by her bed. She’d left it behind.

Thancred and Ryne went straight to the Exarch, and bade him gather everyone together in the Ocular for an emergency meeting. With any luck, they would be able to make sense of the missing bride-to-be’s ink-stained message, or figure out where she’d gone, and why. But once the situation had been explained, everyone went quiet with contemplation.

Deeply frowning, the Exarch broke the silence: “Well, for starters, I’m fairly certain we can rule out the most cynical of the possibilities; namely, the one where Rahela suddenly changed her mind about the wedding that she herself proposed. It goes without saying that she’d never do such a thing as run out on her loved ones.”

The gunbreaker agreed. “Aye, she’s never been one to keep secrets or hide her feelings; and this whole time, not once has she shown even the slightest sign of reluctance to go through with this.”

“But even so, the fact remains that she is gone,” Y’shtola said, furrowing her brow. “And that she departed without her linkpearl is troubling; either she left in such haste that she did not think to take it with her, or she deliberately left it behind…”

“Unless… ” Alisaie’s eyes snapped open, her expression turning to one of horror. “Oh, gods…I’d been joking when I said it the other night, but what if…”

Suddenly getting an inkling of where his sister was going with this, Alphinaud warned, “Alisaie, you can’t be serious!”

But she explained, “Last night after the rehearsal, I noticed someone with brown hair and a brown jerkin scaling one of those tall palm trees outside the Pendants. At the time I’d only thought it was odd, but now, with Rahela missing… what if _that woman_ is behind this?”

Alphinaud rebuked, “We don’t want to jump to conclusions! This situation is quite similar to the recent incident in Eulmore; Lady Chai feared that her husband had fled the city, when in truth she had merely overlooked the letter that he had left behind.”

“Except we _do_ have a note, and it doesn’t tell us anything!” Alisaie shoved the napkin in her brother’s face. “Just look at it, it’s just a bunch of ink shapes! There’s no proof that she even drew this mess! It’s possible that she left on her own, but it’s just as possible that she’s in trouble. And there’s only one person who stands to gain from Rahela disappearing _today_ of all days: _Eidith!”_

Now marked the second time Thancred had heard this name; the first time had been Rahela’s insistence that she be not allowed in the vicinity of the wedding, and he didn’t question it. But now, hearing the possibility that this woman might pose a threat to his fiancée’s safety without him knowing, he scowled and asked with some frustration, “Alright, who in the _hells_ is this Eidith, and why does everyone but me seem to know about her?”

“Eidith is, simply put, your stalker,” Y’shtola stated, furrowing her brow and crossing her arms. “Apparently, you chanced to save the life of a merchant friend of hers, and he told her of a white-haired Hume swordsman. What’s more, she saw you fight during the invasion of Lakeland, and she’s been smitten with you ever since. To the point where she’d taken to calling you _‘her_ Thancred,’ and even expressed jealousy of both Rahela _and_ Ryne for spending so much time with you.”

The gears turned in Thancred’s head, and the realization dawned on him. “Oh, gods, not again…” He’d gotten more than his fill of this nonsense back on the Source; Papalymo once compared the handsome hyur’s crazed fanatics to the tempered thralls of a primal. Back then, it had been his own fault for seducing them in the first place, but some Ul’dahn ladies just did not seem to understand the idea of a ‘one-night stand;’ on at least one occasion he’d had to escape from the manor of a paramour who wanted to keep him all to herself. Rahela herself had been the victim of attacks from his exes when a whole host of them swarmed the Rising Stones; even now he could perfectly remember the shrill cries of _‘miqo’te manstealer’_ that echoed through the halls that day. And now a woman that he’d never spoken to, or even _looked at_ was claiming ownership over him? “And why did nobody tell me I had a bloody stalker?!”

Urianger explained, “We honor attendants hath previously judged her unlikely to act upon her feelings for thee, and thus deemed her admiration harmless. And Mistress Eidith may very well be innocent of this accusation which my lady levies upon her.”

“What’s more, Alisaie,” Ryne spoke up, “Even if she had a reason to want Rahela out of the way, how in the world could she have done it? Rah might be a heavy sleeper, but Thancred and I aren’t! We would have heard someone come in and take her!”

 _“Exactly!”_ Alphinaud emphatically insisted. “Kindly explain _how_ exactly could a civilian break into the apartment shared by the Warrior of Darkness and two trained survivalists!”

Alisaie had a retort for that, as well; “She inspects shipments to the markets, it would be the easiest thing in the world for her to get a hold of some dream powder from the alchemists at the Mean!”

Quickly growing tired of this bickering, the Exarch slammed the butt of his staff against the crystalline floor. _“Alisaie,”_ he said, his tone authoritative, “If you would just listen--”

“Oh, don’t _you_ start!” She shot back, nostrils flaring. “We’re wasting enough time without _you_ prattling on while Rahela’s being held captive! I’m getting to the bottom of this!”

With that, the infuriated Maid of Honor turned on her heels and tore out of the Ocular, leaving the rest of the Scions in the dust and gawking after her. The double doors slammed shut, and G’raha pinched the bridge of his nose while letting out a growl-like noise of exasperation.

“I was _going_ to say that I could _very easily_ ascertain Rahela’s location. If she’s anywhere in Norvrandt, the Crystal Tower should be able to find her and scry her location, even on the _very_ off chance that she is indeed being held captive.”

Sagging his shoulders and sighing deeply, Alphinaud asked, “Shall I go after Alisaie before she throttles that poor woman into another shard?”

“Nngh…” Thancred grimaced, but acquiesced. “Probably. As creepy as this Eidith woman is, it won’t do to have Alisaie get arrested for assaulting her before we can prove she actually kidnapped Rahela.”

Alphinaud took that as his cue to follow his sister out of the Ocular. Hopefully he could at least get her to go about this more rationally than ‘cornering, accusing, and interrogating Eidith in the middle of the markets.’

With that, the Exarch sighed and turned his attention to the crystalline mirror on his wall; closing his eyes and furrowing his brows in concentration, he raised his staff and touched it to the mirror… Images flashed across the glassy surface; of the Crystarium, Lakeland, Il Mheg, Amh Araeng, the Rak’tika Greatwood, Kholusia, Eulmore, the Tempest, even the Empty… When he opened his eyes, the mirror returned to its usual, shining blue. “No sign of her on the First,” he said, looking back to the group with a frown on his face. “She must have returned to the Source.”

“But, wherefore…” Urianger pondered, his expression turning grim. “Dost thou suppose an urgent matter hath arisen? Our enemies neither know nor care for any days of reprieve we doth take.”

Thancred crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Nobody from the Source can contact Rahela while she’s here, so she wouldn’t have been alerted to anything.”

Ryne posited her own idea; “Or, maybe she needed to get something from there that she couldn’t get here? And the note was her attempt at letting us know where she’d be…?”

“That’s certainly the best-case scenario…” The gunbreaker sighed, “But even then she’ll need to hurry. She knows how risky that is, with the time dilation between worlds.”

“Indeed; while we are thankfully in a period of _near_ -equivalence, it’s still not _exact_ equivalence.” G’raha confirmed. “She’s still in danger of missing her own wedding by accident if she lingers too long…”

Adding on to her previous theory, Ryne said, “Then that must have been why she left before sunrise, to give herself as much time as possible.”

“That does seem the most likely of explanations,” Y’shtola agreed; “Alas, we have no way to be completely sure… And if Alisaie succeeds in confronting Eidith in public, then word will likely spread of Rahela’s disappearance, only compounding our problems…”

The people of the Crystarium had been practically humming with excitement for the ‘Wedding of the Century.’ And with good reason. But there was no telling what might happen if word got around that the _Warrior of Darkness_ had turned tail and become a runaway bride; Thancred feared that people would think the worst of at least one of them. 

“Gods…” Thancred muttered, “Would that any of us could move between worlds as easily as her…”

“… Ah!” Urianger lit up with an idea, realizing that such an individual did indeed exist. He then called upwards: _“Avam, cairm syn?”_

Recognizing the Fae-speak, the others took the cue to step back, giving room to Feo Ul as they came spiraling out of the aether, finally stopping and hovering only a few ilms away from Urianger’s face, clearly displeased to have anyone not named ‘Rahela’ ask for their presence.

“Yes, yes, what do you want?” Feo griped. “I’m very busy! I’m planning a special surprise for my sapling when I walk her down the aisle, and it needs to be _perfect!”_

“‘Tis on Rahela’s behalf that I sent for thee, Majesty.” Urianger explained. “For thy sapling hath crossed the Rift, and we know not the reason; but we seek to have her returned to us ere the appointed hour of sunset. If I know her, she wouldst be most devastated to miss her wedding on account of a cruel quirk of the inequity of time between our two worlds.”

Quirking a brow, they asked, “Is that all? It’d be one thing to be fretting when the hour is drawing near, but the sun’s barely up, and you’re worried about whether or not she’ll be back in time for sundown? How do you mortals _live_ with such constant anxiety?”

“Pray allow me to finish,” Urianger went on, speaking with the utmost of intent: “She is vanished, and what’s worse, there are those who wouldst besmirch the good name of thy sapling by saying she would intentionally abandon her beloved on this most critical of days, and decry her as selfish and unfaithful. Among us, thou art the only one capable of traversing the Rift and seeking out Rahela and returning her to prove their foul accusations art false. Thus are we in need of thee, O beautiful King.”

 _“WHAT?!_ Och, why didn’t you lead with that?! The nerve of them, speaking ill of my _snae ac!”_ The pixie thrashed their arms up and down from sheer, unbridled outrage. “Just you wait, I’ll find her and bring her back so we can laugh in these naysayers’ faces!”

That was all it took for Feo to twirl in the general direction of the Ocular mirror that served as the portal to the Source, and then vanish from sight, leaving the Scions and Exarch alone again.

Awkward silence hung in the air before Thancred shrugged, mildly impressed. “Tricking the Fae King into doing his bidding. As expected from the man who won a week-long riddle contest with the little blighters.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Y’shtola commented, “And now we wait…”

“Aye. Hopefully she’ll use the Beacon to let us know when she returns…”

At that very moment, not far away, a woman with mussed, undercut hair and a brown jerkin stained with dried ale sat slumped over at a table in the Wandering Stairs. Her face was smushed against the surface and hidden by her folded arms to hide all the drunken crying she’d done last night, as evidenced by the concerning number of empty tankards that sat on the table. Hungover in the extreme, the woman winced in pain at the sound of footsteps approaching her.

“Excuse me, miss…” the waitress asked, “But, you’ve been here all night. And it’s past sunrise. I should probably be asking you to leave now, but… After all the weeping and carrying on you were doing earlier, I feel like I should ask… Are you alright?”

Eidith peeled her face, sticky from tears, off the table to look blearily at the woman talking to her. _“Mmmegh…_ I still feel like shite. But… I’ve run out of tears to cry. I think… I’ll be fine…”

“Then in that case, I’ll bring you some water, on the house. You should probably rehydrate and replenish all the fluids you lost last night. Would you like me to get all these tankards out of your way?”

“W- _Waters…”_ Contrary to her previous statement, Eidith’s eyes widened and welled up with giant globules of tears. “T-T- _Tankards…?”_

Hearing the way Eidith’s voice cracked on that last word, the waitress jolted where she stood, panicking that she’d set off the customer again. She backed away as Eidith tensed up for a long moment, before…

… Throwing her head back and letting out a long, ear-piercing wail.

_“Weeeeeeh…! My Thancreeeeeeed! My Thancred’s marrying another womaaan…!”_

Wincing in pain at the sound of her cries, the waitress tried to console the sobbing woman, patting her on the back. “There, there, uh… It’ll be okay…”

“No, it won’t!” Eidith cried, shoving the other woman away. “B-because… after the wedding, she’ll, she’ll be takin’ him back to her homeland! An’ I’ll never-ever-ever get to see him _agaaaiiin…!”_

Not giving up on her reassurance, the waitress continued. “Your life will still go on after that. There's always plenty more fish in the sea…?”

With a long whine, Eidith sagged her shoulders and hung her head. “No… There’s no fish in this world who could be like him… No fish in the whole universe could ever look like him… Or move like him… Or wear _tight leather pants_ like him…”

“Oh. Uh…” Suddenly finding something off about this whole picture, the waitress cleared her throat, and stated, “Forgive me for noticing, but… Those are only his… _physical_ qualities.”

“So what?” Eidith mumbled. “No one else could ever move me to love and long like he does…”

“Does Master Thancred know how you feel about him?” Being hit with a realization, she began to deeply frown. “Or… Have you ever even _spoken_ to him…?”

“What does that matter?”

“Wh--?! But--! _Ffff…!_ ” Godsdammit, Glynard paid her decently well, but definitely not enough for _this_. She took a deeeep breath, pressing her hands flat together to keep herself composed. “… Then, how exactly do you have more claim to Master Thancred than _his own fiancée?”_

“It’s a woman’s intuition. If Thancred _did_ know me, he would absolutely choose me over her any day. I’ve seen that Mystel woman he’s with; she’s _kinda_ cute, but _definitely_ no stunner. What’s that floozy got that I don’t?!”

“Bw-- What--?!” Did she seriously call the Warrior of Darkness a floozy?! In as restrained a tone as she could manage, the waitress asked, “Surely you’re not serious with that?”

“The name’s _Eidith_ , I don’t even know a ‘Shirley.’ And yeah, I’m serious!” Eidith scowled, balling up her fists. “Who does that cat think she even is, always squeezing the life outta him, smooching on him with all those _public displays of affection?”_

 _The Warrior of bloody Darkness is who she is,_ the waitress wanted to yell, but she wanted to give Eidith the benefit of the doubt. “Do you… seriously not know?”

Increasingly furious that she was facing questioning from this waitress instead of getting the sympathy that she wanted, Eidith slammed her fist down on the table, hard enough to shake the empty mugs. “What’s there to know, except that _she’s stealing my man?!”_

Now struggling to keep up the ‘good employee’ persona, the waitress twitched, and her tone became shaky. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. How is it that you don’t even know who Rahela _is?_ This wedding’s all that’s been on everyone’s lips lately, even more than the Warrior of Light and the meteor shower!”

Eidith seemed to have lost the sudden anger that had welled up, and now leaned her chin upon her hand. “I dunno… I guess I’ve just been so lost in thinking about my sweet Thancred that I end up not paying attention to anything; not the news, or even my work.”

“… Don’t you have a job inspecting all the shipments and goods that come into the market?”

A beat of silence, and the waitress realized that Eidith was now staring off into space instead of paying attention to her. “--Oh, sorry. I was thinking about his hair… His lovely, silken, snow-white hair… His eyes, I haven’t gotten close enough to see what color they are yet, but I’m sure they’re dreamy… His juicy bum that I like to get a peek at whenever his coat flies up during a fight…” Finally having had enough, the waitress had gone back to the bar, but Eidith didn’t notice; so preoccupied with thinking about the object of her affection, that she didn’t even notice the sound of approaching stomps. She sighed, longingly, _“Ohhh…_ by the stars, I’d do _anything_ to make that gorgeous hunk of man my own…”

_“I’ll take that as a confession!”_

A shout from across the bar made Eidith jump out of her reverie to look for where it came from: and she saw… a little elf girl. Looking very angry. With two weird, shiny fox creatures, one black and one white, insistently trying to chew through her boots?

And pointing a sword right at her.

Eidith blinked a few times, not having any idea what the girl meant. “Confession? To… What?”

 _“Don’t play dumb with me!”_ The elf girl then suddenly brandished her rapier and closed the gap between them in less than a second, making the table rattle and causing Eidith to nearly fall out of her chair. She then shouted in the hume’s face, “I know what you did, and you know what you did! You’ve been stalking Thancred for ages! And last night, I saw you climbing up the palm tree next to his apartment in the Pendants! So I know you broke in and kidnapped his fiancée on the night before they were to be married!”

Immediately realizing she was in trouble, Eidith shrunk away from the girl in a panic. “E-excuse me? I don’t know anything about any kidnapping!”

The girl leaned in dangerously close and hissed, “I _know_ it was you. Rahela’s disappeared. You have a crystal-clear motive for wanting to do away with her. So tell me. _Where did you hide her?”_

“Alisaie!” A new, boyish voice called out. “For, for gods’ sake, _Alisaie!”_

Both Eidith and her small interrogator looked to the other side of the bar where an elven boy, almost identical to the girl, stood panting and wheezing and bracing himself on bent knees. The small glowing foxes returned to his side, and he righted himself; he had a small, dusty bootprint on his tunic, and he looked _livid._

“I… am your elder brother…” He huffed, “Not, not a springboard for your gymnastics!”

“I’m _busy,_ Alphinaud!” Alisaie shouted back.

“The Exarch is searching for Rahela now,” Alphinaud insisted. “We’re all certain she’ll be found in time, so, _please,_ let the woman go, at least until we know more!”

Alisaie seemed to almost be considering her brother’s words… But then, something clicked in Eidith’s head. “Wait… The bride is missing on the day of the wedding… So you mean…” Her eyes lit up with hope and excitement at precisely the worst time.

“Thancred’s fiancée left him at the altar? _I’ve still got a chance?!”_

Alphinaud buried his face in disbelief and horror. Alisaie grabbed Eidith by the collar and pulled her in close, with violent murder in her eyes. 

_“Wrong answer.”_

The boy’s arms slipped under Alisaie’s and pulled her back, aided by his two fox-like pets. _“Wait-wait-wait!_ Alisaie! Th-that response, though _very_ ill-advised, means she clearly didn’t know anything about Rahela…!”

Eidith, however, didn’t stick around to hear that; as soon as Alisaie had been pulled off of her, she bolted towards the stairwell leading out of the bar.

“She’s running for it!” Alisaie wrenched herself out of Alphinaud’s grasp and hollered, _“FLECHE!”_

At her command, six blue, aetheric blades formed above Alisaie’s head, before she swung her arms outward and sent them all flying, homing towards Eidith. A shrill cry of **_“EEEEE--”_ ** was the only sound that escaped her before the swords pierced her clothing and pinned her down on the floor like a prized insect before finding the pointed tip of the elf girl’s rapier pressed to her nose.

 _“Now,”_ Alisaie growled, glaring menacingly down her nose at the shivering Eidith. “Are you going to tell me where you hid Rahela, or would you rather we do this the hard way?”

Opening her eyes as she exited the aether, Rahela was relieved to find that it was still the same morning that it was when she left.

It took her a great deal of running around Aldenard, and talking to F’lhaminn, Lyse, Rowena… But she found, to her surprise, that the Greatloam Growery had cultivated two out of the three types of flowers she was looking for; knowing that she would need a lot of petals, she ended up buying enough flowers to fill at least a few baskets. That still left one type of flower that she needed, and on any other day she would have been willing to go on a search across the realm to find it, but time was of the essence. Thankfully, Guildmaster Fufucha had been able to point her towards one of the several locations where this flower bloomed; and to Rah’s surprise, that was when Feo Ul appeared and let her know that while it was still relatively early morning in Norvrandt time, the others were fretting about where she’d disappeared to.

That was enough to speed her up, and Feo Ul helped her in picking as many of the flowers as would fit in her basket. And that was that; with her branch carrying one basket and the other two hanging on her arms, and she was relieved to see that none of the flowers had vanished on the teleport back to the Crystarium.

Happily wiggling her tail at her branch, Rahela said with a smile, “Thank you so much for the help, Feo; all these together with the petals that Ryne already got from Hortology, this should be more than enough for the entire aisle. Once I drop these off at the Waters apartment I’ll get ready--”

**_“EEEEE--”_ **

Ears perking up at the sound of a woman screaming from the direction of the markets, Rahela instinctively broke into a run, dashing to find the source of the commotion. And once she got close enough to the Wandering Stairs, she found it: Alisaie with her sword drawn, threatening someone she had pinned down with aetherial blades, with Alphinaud desperately trying to talk her down. 

“ _Now,”_ Alisaie growled, “Are you going to tell me where you hid Rahela, or would you rather we do this the hard way?”

Oh, hells.

 _“Aaaliiisaaaiiie!”_ Rahela called out at the top of her lungs, sprinting towards the stairwell leading up to the bar, still carrying her dangerously full flower baskets. _“I’m right here, I’m fine!”_

Looking down below, Alisaie jumped in shock at the sight of her friend. “Ah--!” 

Climbing up the stairs, Rahela asked, “What’s going on, and who’ve you got pinned down—?” But once she reached the top, she saw exactly who it was and pulled a face. “Oh, gods, what did Eidith do? Did she make a move to try to steal Thancred?”

Alisaie immediately backed off of Eidith, putting her rapier away and dispersing the aetherial blades, all while making a face like she’d just gotten caught doing something she knew was wrong. On the other hand, Alphinaud had the exact expression like he was watching his sibling get in trouble for doing something wrong; crossing his arms and giving her a pointed look that said, _‘Go on, tell her.’_

Clearing her throat, Alisaie haltingly explained, face turning as red as her dress, “I… I _thought_ she did, but… I thought her move was to kidnap you. So I confronted her, and, erm…”

Alphinaud exclaimed, clearly incensed. “She jumped to conclusions based on faulty information, publicly harassed and attacked a civilian, and publicly accused her of kidnapping you!” 

“Honestly?” The waitress who’d been listening to Eidith before spoke up, watching from the bar as though it were a mildly amusing play. “With the way Eidith was ranting about you and Thancred earlier, I could’ve believed it if she _did_ do the deed.”

 _“_ I tried to stop her with both my Moonstone and Obsidian Carbuncles, but to no avail. _And,”_ Alphinaud said with an increasingly irritable tone, “Before that, I tried to get her to calm down, but she responded by kicking me in—and _backflipping off of_ —my chest!”

Alphinaud pointed directly to the perfectly bootprint-shaped patch of dirt on his tunic, and Rah immediately understood. Looking at her Maid of Honor with somewhere between disbelief and disappointment, she groaned, _“Really,_ Alisaie…?”

“Ugh…” Alisaie crossed her arms, pouting and scrunching up her nose and looking away. “I’m sorry, Alphinaud. For backflipping off of you.”

“Alisaie.”

“… And to you too, Rahela, for believing that this airheaded, simpering stalker could kidnap you so easily.”

“Alisaie!”

“Alright, _fine!”_ She shouted, now utterly vexed. “I’m sorry for attacking the airheaded, simpering stalker!”

Rahela and Alphinaud sighed in unison, both realizing that was probably the best they were going to get out of her. Better than nothing…

“W-wait…” Eidith’s voice came out shakily as she sat up. Eyes falling on Rahela, a look of anger crossed her face. “You, you’re… You’re the woman taking my Thancred away from me!”

Turning her attention back to Eidith, Rah grimaced. Looking down with a pitying look to her would-be rival, she said, “Can we… _not_ do this? Thancred is _my_ fiancé. We’ve been together for years, so he was never ‘ _yours’_ to begin with. I already blacklisted you from the wedding for stalking both him and our daughter. And he’s never even so much as looked at you. So _please,_ for your sake and ours, just. Find someone who’ll reciprocate your feelings. Or focus on your work. Find a hobby. Do _literally anything_ other than obsess over a man who’ll be married by the end of today.”

“That’s what I said. But she didn’t listen.” The waitress said, with no small degree of contempt. “Her feelings for Master Thancred are about as deep as the puddle of ale she spilled on the floor for me to clean up; she kept talking about his looks, or more often, his backside. That, and she kept calling you a ‘hussy’ for ‘stealing’ him.”

Rah sagged her shoulders and looked up to the ceiling in subdued exasperation, while Alisaie, still hot from her earlier outburst, found herself with renewed fury, shouting: “She did _what?!”_

“It’s _true,_ though!” Eidith had gotten back up to her feet, and slapped the table hard enough to rattle the empty tankards strewn across it. “It’s true, you, you… _Mystel manstealer!”_

“Miss Eidith,” Alphinaud desperately tried to soothe her and de-escalate the situation. “I am begging you, _please_ stop digging yourself deeper, before--”

“It _is!”_ Paying no heed, Eidith whined, angrily pointing at Rahela. “You don’t appreciate his beauty, and you’re gonna marry him and take him far, far away where I’ll never get to look at him again! I was just climbing the tree last night ‘cause I wanted to see him in his apartment; and he was smiling all happy-like, and his smile’s so beautiful. But I hated that it was _you_ who was causing it and not me! _I wish_ that I’d had the idea to get rid of you then--!”

_\--Poof._

In a sudden puff of smoke, Eidith vanished. And fluttering just behind where she’d been standing, still holding an overflowing flower basket, was an absolutely _irate_ Feo Ul.

“When I catch up with you all, this is what I find!” They ranted at the top of their lungs. “I’ll not tolerate anyone saying such cold and cruel and _heartless_ things to my precious flower! Absolutely not! I won’t stand for it, I won’t suffer anyone to ruin my sapling’s special day!”

All four remaining people in the Wandering Stairs stared blankly at the pixie, unsure of how to respond to Eidith’s sudden disappearance.

“Um…” Rahela flicked her ears, and hesitantly asked, “Feo Ul? What did you do to Eidith?”

With a self-satisfied little twirl, the Fae King answered, “Why, I sent her to my castle; there lie in wait some of my friends who’re most _eager_ to play with her. Friends who can conjure illusions to fool both the eyes and the ears. Friends who can send her running this way and that. Friends who can teach her the error of her ways and make her understand what she’s done…” They then declared with a wicked grin, “And if she doesn’t listen, friends who can lure her in with sweet temptations of her heart’s desire… And then _crush_ those hopes and _grind them into dust!”_

Suddenly panicked now, Rahela pleaded, “Wait, Feo, what does that mean? I don’t want anything involving leafmen, or drowning, or any kind of real harm!” Eidith may have been a creepy, obsessive stalker, but it didn’t feel right to sentence her to _death by pixies_ for it.

“Oh, perish the thought, sapling! She’ll be fine,” Feo said, a bit too casually. “We never visit undeserving punishments upon offending mortals. But at midnight tonight, once the Nu Mou finish browbeating her with their lecture on respecting other women, and you especially, she’ll pop back in her room, convinced that all of that was just a bad dream. From there, it’s up to her if she heeds that warning…”

“I…” Rahela coughed, and shrugged, “Alright, I guess? I mean, she definitely needs to get a grip, but like Alphinaud said, she’s a civilian. Don’t want her to get hurt.”

Alphinaud, for his part, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I _tried_ to warn her. But, as long as she’s returned to her home unharmed, then I suppose that’s the best we can hope for from the pixies…”

“With any luck, she’ll learn from this,” Alisaie commented, crossing her arms. “Though it also would probably be best to talk to the Exarch about generating some kind of barrier around your and Thancred’s apartments that would keep Eidith, and only Eidith, from getting too close. Like some kind of magical restraining order.”

Feo Ul fluttered down and lowered the basket of flowers onto the floor. “In any case, Urianger requested that I find you and bring you back, and so I have. And now, I must away, for I’ve got a special surprise for the ceremony to prepare for!”

Alphinaud at once looked wary again, and asked, “Is it the kind of surprise that any of us should be worried about?”

“Or any of our guests?” Alisaie added.

“Silly twinnies, if I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surpriiise!” Feo giggled, and then vanished in a sparkling loop de loop.

The little drama finally over, the three Scions sheepishly turned back to the poor waitress who had to deal with the ridiculousness of both Eidith and Alisaie. 

After a short, awkward silence, the elezen girl apologized, sincerely this time, “I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

“Ah, don’t fret over it,” the waitress assured. “I was most of the way ready to suplex her myself by the time you showed up. You lot and your pixie friend just saved me the trouble.”

“That’s good to hear,” Alisaie said with a nod. “And now that that’s finally settled…” Her anger then returned in full force; with a scowl, she thrust her pointer finger against Rahela’s nose, and shouted, _“YOU! Where in the seven bloody hells have you been?!_ And where exactly did you get those mountains of flowers?”

Leaning away from her furious Maid of Honor, Rahela lifted her hands in a vain attempt to calm her. “I’m sorry for making you worry! But, I _did_ leave a note saying where I’d be! _‘Gone to Source to get flowers. Will be back soon. -Rahela’!_ Did Thancred and Ryne not show you?”

“That wasn’t a note, that was an illegible mess of ink on a napkin!” Alisaie yelled back. “And what’s more, you went back to the Source, made us all worried sick about you, and risked missing your own wedding because of the time dilation, just to get some _flowers?_ ”

“They’re not for me, they’re for Ryne!” Rahela insisted. “And besides, I left before sunrise, and I hurried as much as possible!”

“Flowers aren’t _that_ important!”

Finally interjecting in between the two, Alphinaud said, “What’s done is done, sister. And Rahela knew to hurry, so she was clearly keeping the time dilation in mind.” Looking then to Rah, he also admonished her; “But Alisaie was right in that the letter was completely unreadable; and I thought you would have made sure to be more careful about that, given the incident with Lord and Lady Chai…”

Crossing her arms, Rahela looked down and thought back to before dawn that morning, ears folding downward in contemplation. "I thought I’d written it clearly enough. Though, now that I think about it… The ink _was_ pretty runny… the thin paper napkin probably didn’t help either… and I guess my handwriting isn’t that great, especially since I’d just woken up… And I did write the letters pretty small… and… in the dark…”

Now thoroughly exasperated, Alisaie gave up, letting out a long groan and slumped forward, her forehead landing on Rahela’s chest. _“Whyyy. Aaare. Youuu. Liiike. Thiiis.”_

“Well. I, for one, am relieved to find that all of this was merely the work of honest mistakes and miscommunication. And the most important thing is that Rahela is back, and with ample time to prepare.” Alphinaud finally succeeded in smoothing over the last of the issues, and picked up a basket full of white flowers in his hand. “The Exarch likely knows she’s safely returned and has told the others by now, but we still need to take these flowers to Ryne, don’t we?”

Finally, Alisaie sighed, _“Fiiine,”_ and picked up the basket of pink flowers that Feo Ul had set down earlier. “So, what are these flowers that warranted so much fuss, anyroad?”

Taking the one remaining flower basket, she grinned and moved in the direction of the Exedra. “You’ll see!”

All the decorations and chairs for the wedding attendees had been set up, and the sky was a perfect, cloudless blue. Of course, Rahela was relieved to see everything in order, but her focus zeroed in on the figures descending the steps of the Crystal Tower at varying speeds. At the front was Ryne, followed by Thancred, then Y’shtola, then finally Urianger.

“Rahela!” Ryne called out with an excited wave. “Welcome back!”

“Hey! Sorry for making you all worry,” Rah said, scratching the back of her neck. “I wanted to give myself as much time as possible, so I left to get flowers from the Source pretty much as soon as I woke up. Meaning I didn’t really think about how readable my letter was.”

At that, Ryne motioned joyfully, “So I was right! You just went to do some last-minute shopping!”

“How curious,” Urianger mused. “Ryne predicted Rahela’s actions with a remarkable degree of accuracy. Mayhap she possesseth a preternatural gift for astromancy…”

“You wish,” Thancred flatly rebuked. “She may be an Oracle, but not the kind that tells the future. But even so, it doesn’t surprise me in the least that Ryne knows her surrogate mother so well. In fact, I would dare say that we've found the answer as to who she takes after.”

“Oh, but that reminds me!” Happily swishing her tail, Rahela reached into the basket she carried on her arm, the basket filled with two variations on the same six-petaled flower; some red, and some white with a blue halo in the center. Taking a white blossom in hand, the mother miqo’te tucked it behind the hume girl’s ear. “All these flowers are for you, Ryne!”

Promptly doing a double take at all the flowers, Ryne let out a small, amazed gasp at the sheer amount of them. “For me? Really? Thank you, Rahela!”

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Rahela said as she, Alphinaud, and Alisaie set all the sets of flowers down in a row. “I wanted to get something special for your basket, and for all of us.”

(Neither Rahela nor Ryne noticed the look that Thancred was giving to both of them…)

“First off, we have…” Rah leaned down, and plucked up seven of the pink flowers that bore five, gently furling petals and handed them out to everyone, leaving one for herself. “For all the Scions: Wild roses!”

“Ah…” A smile tinged with nostalgia crossed Y’shtola’s face. “I’d nearly forgotten, our order’s old password… And here I was, about to give you a thorough scolding for disappearing on us at a juncture as critical as this. To procure these gifts was a thoughtful gesture, to be sure.”

Rah happily wiggled her tail in response. “You can wear it in your hair, on your clothes, as a corsage, or however you like.”

Looking to Urianger, she saw that the astrologian’s eyes had fallen on another basket; namely the one containing a volume of lovely blooms with petals as white as the moon. He knelt down beside the basket, visibly moved. “Rahela… Dost mine eyes deceive me, or didst thou acquire…?”

Kneeling down next to him, Rah confirmed, “Yep; Moon daisies. Lyse told me they were Moen’s favorite. It felt right, considering we would never have made it this far without her.”

Delicately taking a daisy between his thumb and forefinger, he beheld it with a bittersweet sort of reverence. To Rahela, he said, “I… I thank thee. I shall wear this bloom close to mine heart.”

Then, a movement of white caught Rahela’s eye. Similarly, Thancred knelt down to get a closer look at the flowers in a basket. Specifically, the one full of the red and white flowers. Canting her head to look at him, she asked, “Thancred?”

“Heh… Speaking of blooms close to one’s heart…” A little sigh escaped his nose. “You brought Velodyna cosmos; did F’lhaminn tell you, then…?” 

“Mm. She told me they symbolize protection, and that she was handing them out to people at the parade where she first met Ascilia.”

“I know. I was there, too,” he said, gently taking a pair of the cosmos from the basket, one white and one red. Slowly twirling them between his fingers, he pondered, partly under his breath, “It’s almost surreal to think on how much that parade changed everything. Sometimes, I still catch myself wondering, how different these two worlds would be if our three paths had never crossed that day…”

“I don't think there's any way to know,” Rahela said. Then, quoting her dream from the night before, she went on, “It’s no crime to wonder; but, I don’t think any of us would be here if it weren’t for you meeting Minfy. So I wouldn’t dwell on the ‘what-ifs’ too much.”

“Aye, perhaps the Exarch would be more keen on speaking on the divergent points of various timelines…” Y’shtola’s voice spoke up behind them. “But today is not the ideal time for long, philosophical discussions; for, I need not remind you, _it is your wedding day,_ and we all need to make ready.”

“Yes, yes, if you'll just permit me a moment…” Thancred said, waving off his Best Woman as he got to his feet. Sticking his free hand into his coat pocket, he felt around until he pulled out… a familiar, delicate pink ribbon. With it, he took the red and white cosmos flowers and tied them together in a neat little bow. And he took those two flowers to a front and center chair, closest to the aisle, and laid them there.

“We were already going to leave that seat open for her, this can just serve to mark it,” he explained, making his way back to the group.

A deep breath.

“Right. Let’s all get ready.”


	10. The Wedding (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding party has a moment to breathe before the ceremony begins…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER, THE WEDDING ITSELF, AND THE RECEPTION WERE ORIGINALLY GOING TO BE ONE MASSIVE MEGACHAPTER BUT IT WAS GETTING TO BE WELL OVER 8K WORDS WITHOUT EVEN BEING CLOSE TO DONE. PRAY FOR ME.
> 
> ALSO. HAPPY 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO SHADOWBRINGERS!!! I THANK THIS EXPANSION EVERY DAY FOR BLESSING ME WITH THE CHANCE TO WRITE THIS SHAMELESS INDULGENCE.

Between washing up, getting dressed, hair and makeup, (very light, in the likely case of tears) and gathering everyone, the remainder of the daytime hours slipped away in a flash. Now, as the sun set closer and closer to the horizon, it was… It was finally… Finally time for…

Time for…

_“Ohhh…”_

_“Deep_ breaths, Rahela,” came the sound of Alphinaud’s voice, in as soothing a tone as the young Man of Honor could muster. “This is what we have been preparing for all along.”

Waiting with him and the rest of her party in the Rotunda, Rahela fidgeted, her ears and tail twitching, clasping her hands together tightly to keep them from reflexively reaching up into her locks and combing them with her fingers to calm herself down; now was not the time to mess up her veil, and her gloves dulled the sensations on her hands anyroad. But not being able to stim with her hair and tail only compounded her nerves, and for some godsforsaken reason, she decided to turn around and look around and through the doorway to see how many people were in the audience, and _by the gods there were a lot._

Unlike Thancred, she hadn’t been daunted by the staggering amount of names on the invite list; on paper, it hadn’t seemed like that many. But now, seeing the Exedra absolutely packed with people that were all going to be staring at her…

Tail lashing from side to side and hitting the insides of her hoop skirt, Rah muttered, “Oh, gods… ’M so _nervous…_ And I can’t do squats in this dress…”

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.” Alisaie quipped, leaning against the wall next to Rahela. “Just relax; we’ve already dealt with the love-starved twit, and there’s no sign of any Goggs, or of _You-Know-Who_.”

Folding her ears down, Rah groaned, “Don’t jinx it, please…”

“Well, if worse should come to worse,” Y’shtola chimed in, crossing her arms with a confident smile, “Apparently the role of ‘Best Man’ originated from a need to aid the groom in protecting his bride from potential interlopers. So, though such an outcome is of course undesirable, there would at least be historical precedent for hostilities breaking out at a wedding.”

Frowning, Alphinaud asked, “Is that your way of saying you and Urianger will take on Elidibus yourselves if he attempts to interfere?”

“If the need arose, then certainly,” Y’shtola said, in a rather blasé manner. “And if the need arose, then according to historical Vrandtic wedding practices, _you and Alisaie_ would need to serve as Rahela’s decoys.”

At that, the twins side-eyed each other and grimaced. Alisaie commented, “Y’shtola. If anyone here could pass as a decoy for our original miqo’te black mage, you do realize that it would be _you,_ wouldn’t it?”

As the honor attendants went on with their conversation, Rahela felt a poking on her arm; Ryne now stood next to her, head canted in concern. “Is there anything you need, Rahela?”

“It’s alright, Ryne, I’m fine,” she reassured, patting the girl on her head, careful not to muss the lovingly braided style, or the cosmos flowers tucked into it. “Just… Dealing with some jitters. My heart’s pounding, really hard… If anything, I could use a hug.”

With a smile that said, _‘I expected as much,’_ Ryne moved in to hug Rahela, and she returned it with a relieved _squeeze._ “I promise, you don’t have anything to worry about. You’ll do great… And, thank you. For all of this.”

“Ryne…”

“When I first saw the night sky in Lakeland, I heard the Oracle’s voice; that was when she told me to go and find you. I didn’t understand why, back then… but, now I do. Before then, I didn’t think I had a future, but now I have all that and more. Minfilia brought you, me, and Thancred all together. And I couldn’t be happier, or more grateful, or more excited.” Looking out over the crowd, Ryne smiled. “And I know all the people out there feel the same, too. Because they’re not strangers; they’re all our friends who helped us along the way. They have futures now because of you, too, and they want to celebrate that.”

Nodding in agreement, Rah loosened her hug and let Ryne go, finally feeling better. (But not without giving her a kiss on the forehead first.) That’s right… It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that so many people wanted to attend; they were the whole reason Rahela wanted to have a wedding in Norvrandt in the first place. They were her friends, all having played some part in her life-changing adventures here, big or small, and now they were all here to see her and Thancred. Remembering that, the stage fright immediately passed.

“Well said, Ryne,” agreed a familiar voice. They both looked up, and there was the Exarch, smiling warmly at the both of them. “It should come as no surprise that so many would come and give their well-wishes to the individuals who saved them. The two of you, especially; the Warrior of Darkness and Oracle of Light have been Norvrandt’s symbols of hope for an entire century. And here you both are, about to become mother and daughter. I, for one, can see more than enough reason to rejoice in that.”

The two glanced at each other, then back to G’raha. Flicking an ear, Rah admitted, “Well, when you put it that way…”

The Exarch let out a little huff of a laugh. “Though I suppose, while making the people happy is an added benefit, it certainly isn’t the main reason why people choose to marry, is it? But I digress; I wanted to speak with Rahela before we began.”

“Really?” Rahela canted her head. “What for?”

“I…” G’raha began, and then suddenly flushed. Looking down, and glancing back up to Rahela, he hesitated a moment longer before softly smiling, and touching her shoulder. “Forgive me if I begin to sound repetitive, but… I wanted to reiterate just how glad I am. A day such as this was more than I could ever have hoped to see…”

His ears folded downward, and he leaned forward, bunting their heads together. “That you’re alive, that you’re embracing your happiness with the one you love, and taking on this world as a second home… Precious and joyous days like today, they are the very reason I have strived for so long to save both our worlds, and you…”

_At that moment, an Echo flash filled her mind’s eye; a younger, unchanged G’raha, mournfully kneeling upon the crystalline ground of Rathefrost, before not only the Mark of the Scholar, but eight gravestones on either side of it. And she could discern the names carved upon two adjacent headstones: Thancred’s name, and her own… At once, Rahela understood. The spot that the Scions had chosen to pay their respects to Moenbryda, was where all of them were buried in the Eighth Umbral Era. And G’raha had gone to visit them, once he’d been awoken from his long slumber…_

The flash faded as quickly as it appeared, but as soon as it did, Rahela felt her eyes welling up, and she threw her arms around G’raha’s shoulders and hugged him as tight as she could. “Raha…” She said, nuzzling his cheek, “This couldn’t have happened without you… Thank you…”

Relaxing in her arms and returning the hug, G’raha murmured into her ear, “More than anything, I wanted you to survive. To live a full, happy life. To see many more days like today…”

“I will. I promise…”

Breaking from the embrace, the Exarch nodded. “Wonderful.” A brief pause, and he cleared his throat. “Right. It’s almost time, so be ready; we’ll begin as soon as Feo Ul arrives.”

Giving him one last bunt as he stepped away, Rah watched him make his way to Lyna; he greeted her with a friendly, if formal, “Good evening, Captain; I take it all’s well?”

“Sir,” she saluted him, even in her bridesmaids gown. “The only disturbance reported happened early this morning, in the Wandering Stairs.”

“Is that so…” The Exarch quirked a brow and pointedly glanced in Alisaie’s direction. “And what happened?”

Lyna explained, oblivious to the way Alisaie had immediately frozen in a panic; “The waitress at the bar informed us that a hungover patron caused an altercation and had to be sent home.”

“I see,” he said, a knowing half-smile crossing his face. “Nothing serious, then.”

(Alisaie let out a sigh of relief that the waitress from that morning had covered for her.)

But G’raha wasn’t done asking; “And there’s no mortal peril hurtling towards us? No sin eaters, no meteor showers, no enraged gnolls…?”

“Not a one, my lord.”

“Very good. But even so, I shall tell the rest of the Guard to stay vigilant, so you won’t need to.”

Finally, Lyna’s cool expression warmed into a smile, as she nodded, “Thank you, sir.”

“At ease, Lyna; enjoy yourself," he reassured, patting his surrogate granddaughter on the shoulder. "You look wonderful, by the way.”

With that, he turned back to the aetheryte… And then, his eyes caught sight of Phyna and Lamlyn, the both of them standing together and staring at Lyna, completely enamored. “… May I help you?”

“N-no, sir, my apologies!” Lamlyn stammered, hurriedly saluting the Exarch and bowing deeply.

Nervously waving her hands, Phyna added a fumbling explanation, “We, we were merely agreeing that Lyna looks wonderful! Or, or wait, no, erm…”

Despite the lingering, dubious look he was giving them, G’raha said nothing, instead approaching and raising his hand to the aetheryte, before vanishing into the aether. With that, Rahela looked out the doorway into the courtyard, and he reappeared at the Dossal Gate, taking his place on the stairs beside where Thancred waited.

(She also took the chance to scan the back rows for any sign of her ‘something old,’ but found nothing; either she wasn’t seeing him, or the more likely option, he must not have wanted to watch the wedding, after all…)

Looking back into the Rotunda, she spotted a certain blond elf boy, holding and staring intently at the small treasure coffer in his hands. Sidestepping up next to him, Rahela leaned in and poked him in the arm. He jumped in surprise and blinked at her. “Hey. Everything alright, Taynor? The rings aren’t going to vanish into thin air as soon as you look away from them.”

Taynor looked between her and the coffer that held the wedding rings, and said, “I, I do know, I just want to be careful. You entrusted me with these rings, so I can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

Smiling at Taynor and ruffling his hair, Rahela reassured him, “I do appreciate the effort, but it’s not a matter of life and death if you mess it up; as long as you don’t, like, _eat_ the rings, it should be fine.”

 _“Eat_ the rings?” The boy repeated in disbelief, grimacing at the very suggestion.

Rah shrugged her shoulders. “So I’ve heard, at least. Alphi and Ali are from a political family, so they’ve been to a lot of weddings; and they’ve apparently seen that happen with other ring bearers.”

“I… see,” Taynor said, some of his tenseness now relieved. “My greatest fear was that I would trip and cause the rings to fall out and roll under someone’s seat, and I would have to go get it, and the whole ceremony grinds to a halt… And yet, as embarrassing as that would be, it’s strangely comforting to know that it’s not the _worst_ thing that could possibly happen.”

“See? Plus, you nailed the rehearsal yesterday, so there’s no reason for today being any different,” she said, issuing a thumbs-up.

“I’ll do my best,” Taynor declared, with a smile and a nod. “After all, it’s not only Cerigg watching, but Nyelbert and his friends, as well.”

“Well, I can only hope so. We left seats open for them, at least. And as for Ardbert…” She stayed quiet for a long moment. Taynor knew that the Ardbert who appeared in the Crystarium was an imposter; and she kept in mind what he’d told her after she’d confirmed that to him. _‘Remember how dear he was to you, and be brave.’_ Laying her closed fist over her heart, she said with a sort of somber confidence, “The _real_ Ardbert is right here.”

The sun had finally sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky a dark blue; all the seats were filled, and the crowd was growing louder, potentially restless. There was no more time for stalling.

Closing her eyes and concentrating, Rahela pleaded under her breath, “Please, Feo Ul, I need you…”

She expected to hear the pixie’s voice and see them appear out of the aether, but she waited, for ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds… And nothing. Flicking her ears nervously, she reminded herself that Feo had promised as recently as that morning that they would be there. So she tried again, feeling a bit of deja vu; “O loveliest of branches, please grant me your succor…?”

A few seconds of silence, before Rah noticed a distant shape in the sky that hadn’t been there previously, approaching fast. The shape was glowing, but it definitely wasn’t any kind of sin eater; and then she glimpsed a familiar set of orange butterfly wings, and a long dress, and it at once hit her. 

_“--Big_ Feo!”

For the second time since taking on the crown and scepter, the new Titania had physically left the castle of Lyhe Ghiah, instead of simply sending a piece of themself to their sapling’s side whenever requested. In all the resplendent glory of their true form, Feo Ul descended upon the Crystarium, elegantly fluttering into the Rotunda and hovering high above all present. Seeing this, Rahela at once understood the ‘surprise’ they were hinting at before. 

“Feo Ul…!” Rahela gasped in amazement at the pixie, grinning widely. “I can’t believe it, I--! I never thought-- er, I never expected--! I, ah…!”

A coy smirk crossed their face. “Did you truly not expect us to leave our castle for you, even when we had done it once before?”

“Ah… W-well, when you put it that way, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised,” she admitted, ears folding downward. “Still, I wasn’t sure if you were allowed to leave, or…”

 _“HA!”_ The Fae King barked out a laugh. _“‘Allowed?’_ None would dare stop the Madbloom from going wherever we please, _when_ ever we please! Nothing is too good for our sapling!”

“Well, whatever the case! I’m so glad you made it!”

Their expression turning warm, Feo Ul gradually descended as they spoke. “Of course. We wouldn’t miss this for all the world. Mortals are at their most like the Fae folk when they come together to celebrate the here and the now, delighting in the simple joys… ”

The King descended from the air, lower and lower, until their feet landed upon the ground. And when they did, Rahela was shocked to see… the beautiful Titania was _shorter than her._

“Is something the matter?”

“Feo, I…” _Never realized how short you are, even in your Titania form,_ she desperately fought _not_ to say. Now was perhaps the _least_ suitable time to offend her branch. “... Never mind. It’s almost time for us to get started.”

That’s right. Now that Feo had arrived…

Rahela gulped, and felt her heart begin to pound against her chest, all her blood rushing to her face. _This was it._ On the other end of that aisle, there he stood…

The King followed her gaze, and smirked. “Your groom awaits.”

_Her groom. Her Thancred was waiting for her…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -NOW- IT'S TIME FOR THE WEDDING.
> 
> (Also, yes, Feo Ul really is a little shorter than a 5'3'' miqo'te when they're in their Titania form; forced perspective can do wonders for making a fae king look even more grandiose than they are already. And for proof, here's a screenshot taken by a friend:)
> 
> https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/645430554207977473/693889384805826570/2020-03-29_20-28-24Talim_-_Lalalim.png


	11. The Wedding (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wedding of the Century commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AT LONG LAST
> 
> (Also, a fair bit of the ceremony took inspiration from the Critical Role one-shot “Dalen’s Closet.” I miiight have listened to it on repeat while I was writing this chapter.)

Under the stars, standing before the murmuring crowd, Thancred was similarly anxious with anticipation. Having spent decades perfecting his poker face, he showed no outward signs of such, but he still had to take long, deep breaths to keep his composure. The moment was well and truly at hand. _They were finally getting married._

Thancred recalled his school days, where the unlikelihood of this day was equivalent to a hyperbolic expression, akin to the Hell of Fire freezing over, or of pigs sprouting wings and flying away. Perhaps when he learned of the existence of porxies, he should have taken that as a sign of things to come…

… No, there was no way his past self could have possibly predicted that he would ever be standing here, dressed like some faerie tale prince, about to marry the greatest heroine that two worlds had ever seen. No way, at all.

Glancing to the empty chair marked by the red and white flowers, Thancred smiled to himself, and wondered if _she_ could have ever imagined this for him and Rahela…

A movement from the opening to the Rotunda; Alphinaud waved his signal to the Exarch, who then in turn signaled the cue for Thiuna to mark the beginning of the ceremony. With a deep breath, she flexed her fingers, pressed them to the piano keys, and…

Aided by special devices from the Crystal Tower, the rising-and-falling arpeggiated melody of the piano was amplified to sound across the entire courtyard; the crowd fell silent, immediately hushed by the enchanting music.

The groomsmen, bridesmaids, and honor attendants gathered at the top of the stairway into the Exedra, forming into their pairs and linking arms. One pair at a time, they walked down the stairs and the aisle.

First were Lyna and Magnus; two who had found new lives for themselves, living on after loss and tragedy, having found hope and a new family. Second, Lamlyn and Phyna; two strangers who formed a friendship not only over their love for their individual homelands, but for their shared admiration of the Viis walking ahead of them. And finally, Cyella walked with Grenoldt; two who, each in their own way, sought to keep alive the stories of the long-gone Warriors of Light. They reached the Dossal Gate and split off there, with the groomsmen walking to the right, behind Thancred, and the bridesmaids to the left, where Rahela would stand. G’raha beamed at Lyna with pride as she passed by.

The honor attendants were next. Clearing his throat, Alphinaud offered his arm to Y’shtola, albeit a bit nervously; with a wry smile, she took it without any complaint. Behind them, Alisaie and Urianger seemed to be struggling slightly with their height difference, but the latter quickly managed to lean over slightly so that the former could more easily hold onto his elbow. 

Without further ado, they descended the stairs, walking tall the whole way down. Watching them, her chosen family of Scions, Rahela couldn’t help but feel a swell of joy and gratitude all over again, for all the time and effort they had put in for this. She really did love all of them, so much. And as they approached the Gate, she heard Dulia-Chai’s voice from towards the front of the audience, cooing over how cute and dashing Alphinaud looked, and smiled. The four reached the stairs, and moved to their respective places. Y’shtola and Urianger both gave Thancred a single pat on the shoulder as they stood at his side, while the twins kept a gap from the main group, a gap obviously meant for the bride.

The Prelude began to pick up as the last member of this part of the processional, the ring-bearer, approached the steps; betraying no sign of his earlier nervousness, Taynor held his head high as he carried the coffer down the aisle. Spotting Cerigg near the front of the audience, the two grinned at each other as the younger boy passed. Finally reaching the front, he stopped and stayed a short ways away from the groom’s side of the party, letting out a sigh of relief as he turned to face the audience and stay still until it was time for his cue.

And with one last flourish, the Prelude ended, and Thiuna took a pause to flip the pages of her sheet music to the next song. Back at the Rotunda, Ryne took her basket full of flower petals and stood at the top of the stairs… The whole Crystarium seemed to hold its breath before…

… The soft strains of _‘Twilight Over Thanalan’_ filled the air.

Finally, it was time for the flower girl; Ryne gave Rahela one last wide smile before she began her walk. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she took a conservative handful of petals in her hand, and scattered them as she walked; in the dark of the evening, the bioluminescent petals from the Hortorium shone with a gorgeous myriad of bright colors as they slowly and delicately fluttered downward. The petals from the Source were no less beautiful, with their whites, pinks and reds more than vibrant enough to stand out. As Ryne made her way forward and scattered more petals as she went, the entire aisle behind her glowed, as if it were a road paved with every hue of the night sky. 

All the while, Thancred watched Ryne in utter amazement; amazement that this was the same person he rescued from her cell in Eulmore. Those three years had flown by so quickly, and though not all the memories were happy ones, she’d grown so much… A bittersweet smile rose to his face, heart swelling from just how _proud_ he was of her. And on the other end of the Exedra, Rahela watched her with the exact same smile of adoration.

Reaching the end of the aisle, Ryne scattered the remainder of the petals with a wide gesture; there had been just enough to last her the whole way. Rahela watched her and Thancred exchange one last smile before the flower girl took her spot, and then Feo Ul murmured into her ear:

“Are you ready, _snae ac_ …?”

Clutching at her bouquet of forget-me-nots, Rah took a deep breath, looped her arm with Feo’s… And nodded.

Slowly, minding the hem of her gown, she and Titania descended the stairs. The crowd stood up and turned to watch the bridal march, and they reacted with noises of amazement. They must have been quite a sight; the Fae King in their slender white-and-lavender dress and their expansive orange-and-red butterfly wings… standing at the exact same height as the bride, dressed in a poofy, frilly dark purple-and-golden gown… And both of them lit up from below from the idge of stars that Ryne had laid out for her mother. The colors of their glow hit the gold thread in Rahela’s clothes in a way that made the embroidery shimmer.

But halfway down the aisle, glancing back up towards the Dossal Gate, Rahela could see Thancred looking… Disappointed? Confused? Something wasn’t right…

\--Wait a minute, _looking…_

Oh, hells, _Thancred still couldn’t see her._ Leaning over to the King, she whispers into their pointed ear, “Feo, the invisibility…”

“Don’t fret, sapling, we haven’t forgotten,” they reassured; with a smile, they waved their scepter, conjuring an uncountable number of tiny lights to fill the air and then swirl around Rahela before they flew overhead and, with a flash, _burst_ into a shower of sparkles.

That sudden flash of light made Thancred wince and blink for a brief moment, but when he opened his eyes…

… There she was.

Smiling, sweet, radiant… That loving look in her eyes, the one that humbled and held him so many times… And now, finally seeing it—seeing _her_ —again, was more beautiful than the former bard could express in mere words. 

… Dammit, he promised himself that he wouldn’t get misty-eyed…

As Rahela and Titania reached the end of the aisle, the bride unlooped her arm from her branch, and hugged them. The King kissed her on the forehead, and took to the air once again, hovering a few fulms above the ground. With that, Rah couldn’t wait anymore; she hurried the rest of the way and all but crashed into Thancred’s arms.

“What did I tell you?” She whispered into his ear, grinning, “The waiting was worth it, after all.”

Pulling away from the hug, the groom sighed, “Yes, yes, I understand your point. But by the gods, give me a moment to look at you…”

The Exarch cleared his throat; they both looked at him, and looked at the audience. Thiuna had finished playing the last notes of ‘Twilight Over Thanalan,’ and the Exedra was silent. A little bit sheepishly, Rahela backed away and stood in her spot, blushing a little bit as she handed her bouquet off to Alisaie.

“Are we ready to begin?” G’raha asked, glancing between the two of them.

Looking out into the crowd, Rahela could see so many familiar faces; the Virtue Hunters, the Chais, her friends from the Beehive, a large number of the Night’s Blessed, the miners of Twine, the civic leaders and various citizens of Eulmore and the Crystarium, and so many others… And a sizable gap in the right-hand side of the front row. Each of the six empty seats were occupied by an object representative of an absent person: the two Velodyna cosmos tied in a pink ribbon that Thancred had placed there that morning; the four drained and cracked Crystals of Light, (Lightning, Wind, Earth, and Ice) brought by Grenoldt when he returned from the sea; and finally, an old, bronze sword that Alisaie had retrieved from the Inn at Journey’s Head. 

With a smile, she nodded. Thancred nodded, too. They were both ready.

Returning the smile, G’raha climbed a few of the steps behind him, and opened a small notebook which held his officiant speech. And he read it out, projecting loudly for all across the Exedra to hear…

“Friends! Loved ones! I bid you all welcome!” He announced. “We have gathered here tonight, from near and far, all for a common purpose: to celebrate the eternal binding of Thancred Waters and Rahela Uillces. As tonight’s officiant, I extend many thanks on their behalf to all of you for coming, and ask that you give them your blessings, your encouragement, and your unfaltering support in the days, weeks, months, and years to come.”

Nodding between them, he went on:

“These mighty Warriors of Darkness—not only the bride and groom, but the honor attendants and flower girl, as well—all came together to form a family of their own choosing; and that family has overcome impossible odds, time and time again. And through all of it, Thancred and Rahela have grown as individuals; and though it was certainly never weak, their love has only become stronger through adversity they faced together. And tonight, they celebrate that love with their family, and with all of us, by formally declaring it to all the world.” 

A deep breath before he continued…

“Going forward, they will strive to maintain their marriage through future tribulation; and as tempting as it would be to believe that the worst is already behind them, there are no guarantees. But they are the furthest thing from alone in their struggles, so it falls to the rest of us to support them and lend them any strengths that they themselves may lack. The strength to move past times of hardship and consign them to memory, and instead choose to savor the ones that matter far more…”

Looking down with a warm smile, G’raha addressed the bride directly, “Rahela… Dearest friend, and lodestar to all who know you; you are generous with your love, you are patient and forgiving, and, above all, you are kind.”

“And Thancred… Lionhearted guardian and father of squirrels—” A pause as a few chuckles rose up from the crowd, and Thancred drew his lips into a thin line, just a bit embarrassed that his inexplicable ability to attract nutkins hadn’t been forgotten about. G’raha returned with a playfully contrite smile before continuing, “You love fiercely, you are loyal and forthright, and—although you have struggled in the past with showing such—you are exceptionally kind.”

The groom had stopped his pouting by now, the embarrassment passing quickly. The Exarch’s expression, however, turned serious as he addressed the audience once more.

“Into this eternal binding, Rahela and Thancred’s souls shall now be joined. If anyone present has reason to object to this, then speak now, or else forever hold your peace.”

At that, silence fell over the gathering; though she doubted that any unwanted interlopers _(Elidibus)_ would care enough about the proceedings to interject only when prompted to do so, she still cast suspicious eyes over the crowd, watching for any sign of the false Ardbert. Even with previous reassurances to the contrary, she still felt her tail frizzing up, the fear in the back of her mind that the Ascian would show up again and interject like he did before…

… But a full minute passed, and nobody within the crowd or without had any objections. The wedding party collectively loosened the tension they’d built up, and even the Exarch could not completely hide his relief.

“Very well, then let us proceed. Thancred Waters?” The groom nodded, keeping his eyes on Rahela. The Exarch asked, “Do you take this woman to be your wife for as long as you both shall live, and promise to cherish and love her in every way?

Thancred’s lips parted, but formed no words. The pause was only a few seconds, but he and Rahela each looked into the other’s eyes for what felt like an eon before, finally, he beamed at her, and all but whispered, “… I do.”

Her ears folded down, and her heart caught in her chest. She didn’t know why _those two simple words_ were so surprising, but… She wasn’t prepared to hear him say it out loud. Rah felt a lump in her throat, and her eyes began to feel the sweet sting of happy tears.

“And W’rahela Uillces.” G’raha asked, “Do you take this man to be your husband for as long as you both shall live, and promise to cherish and love him in every way?”

“I--!” Her voice cracked, and she paused to clear her throat. “I do!”

She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears inside, but she then felt Thancred’s hand cupping her cheek, thumb wiping away tiny droplets on her lashes as his voice soothed, “I know, dove, I know; come on, just keep it together a little longer…”

“R-right, right, I know,” she said, leaning into his hand. They were still only halfway through the ceremony, after all; she would be free to dissolve into a happily weeping puddle soon, but not yet.

Opening her eyes, she saw both Thancred and G’raha looking at her with some concern. The latter quietly asked, “Are you alright, Rah? Do you need a moment before…?”

“No, no, I’m fine…”

“Very well,” the Exarch said, before returning to projecting his voice, announcing to the audience, “We've come to the point of the ceremony where the bride and groom recite their vows of devotion to one another, and affirm their love in their own words… Though, remember that they are _only_ words; for these vows to have any meaning, your actions in the future must uphold them. Now without further ado: Thancred, if you would…”

A pink tint appeared on Thancred’s face, but he took a deep breath before he began…

“Rah… Time and time again, I’ve tried to find the very moment when I first started loving you. Even now, I’m still not quite sure. It could have been any number of occasions; I could easily say that it had been when you saved my life. When you pried out the dark, frigid claws that had lodged in my heart; when you flew down to my side and held me so gently, and kept me from drifting away and losing myself in the midst of that dark and endless sea. I could say that was when it happened… But that wouldn’t be true. I had already fallen, _long_ before that.”

His expression changed to one of fond reminiscence. “I think… It happened slowly, over the course of dozens of little moments. When we played cards together and enjoyed easy conversation. When you attended your first banquet, and your face lit up with unbridled joy at seeing so much food in one place. When you smeared dirt clods into my hair, and we laughed together as though we had not a care in the world. When you still wanted to spend time with me in spite of my failings; eating and talking and reading with me until you fell asleep… Speaking frankly, with your kindness, your earnestness, your sincerity… You were an easy woman to fall in love with. Meanwhile, I…”

Thancred trailed off, and sighed. “…Well, self-flagellation won’t fix my past mistakes, but neither will ignoring them… So, let it suffice to say that there have been plenty. But, whenever my thoughts are invaded by grief, regret, self-loathing, hopelessness… I remember that there’s a wonderful, loving, delightful woman who looks at me and sees someone worth loving. And that’s what keeps me from succumbing to it all. Because you’re there, holding my heart so tightly, and filling in all the holes and cracks in it with your love. So, I’ll do what I should have done from the start: to make the most of my time with this family of ours, and to love and support you in all the ways that you’ve done for me. That’s my vow to you--my bride, my hero…” Drawing close, he touched her forehead to hers. _“My Dove.”_

Rahela was silent for a long moment… before pulling her groom into a hug, burying her face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide that she was crying in front of hundreds of people. Thancred gave a little sigh, giving the back of her neck a comforting little scratch and let her be the one to pull away.

And she eventually did, wiping away the tears that hadn’t already been soaked into Thancred’s vest. Glancing at the others both in the wedding party and in the crowd, she was relieved to see that they were all smiling to some degree, and that nobody looked annoyed with her for holding up the ceremony.

… But that didn’t stop her from feeling nervous. Taking deep, long breaths, she felt her cheeks growing warmer and warmer; she'd written down her vows and practiced them in her apartment for hours in preparation for this, but now that the moment was finally at hand… 

She gulped. She looked Thancred right in the eyes and…

“Thancred Waters… I…” _More deep breaths._ “… There’s only so much I can say that I haven’t said already; it’d be a bit silly if all I did was stand here and repeat myself. I’ve already told you how much I love you. How happy you make me. How much you’ve changed me, changed my entire life, all for the better. How my heart always feels so light and happy whenever you smile, and so safe and calm whenever you hold me… And how much I love just… living and being together, and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you… Though, if you ever need a reminder, then all you need to do is ask.”

The corners of her groom’s lips turned up in gratitude for the gentle assurance; but she had more to say.

“But, one confession… I don’t know what will happen after tonight. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t scary. But right now, in the present, we have…” Welling up again, Rahela vainly tried to swallow the lump that was still in her throat. “We have a home. We have a family. We have so, so many friends. And best of all, we have a precious, beautiful, incredible daughter that we both love more than life itself… As much as I wish things could stay this way, it’s like Raha said: there are no guarantees in the future, and there’s no way to know for sure what’s coming. But… we’re not helpless to fate, either. So, as long as you’re guarding my back, and I’m guarding yours… As long as we’re together… I know in my heart that things will turn out okay. So, whatever happens… I won’t be afraid. So, my vow is… no matter what comes next, you’ll forever and always be the love of my life.”

Staring in amazement for a long moment, Thancred let out the breath he was holding. A sense of relief swept over both of them, and they leaned into each other with a smile. And with that relief, they stepped back just a ways enough for the Exarch to resume the ceremony.

“Well said, both of you,” he said, voice brimming with fondness and smiling broadly. “Seeing you now, and knowing all you’ve endured before this, I have full confidence that you’ll be able to keep these vows. And to aid you in such, we now bestow upon you a physical symbol of them. Taynor, may I please have the rings?”

Chest swelling with pride, Taynor stepped forward and presented the coffer containing the rings, holding it out for the Exarch.

Taking the coffer in hand, G’raha opened the lid and presented it to the bride and groom; a pair of simple, silver rings, and said to the both of them, “Like these bands of silver, you both arose from humble origins,” G’raha explained. “And through a great deal of effort and dedication, and a small amount of good fortune, you were forged into something both strong and beautiful. And like these bands of silver, your bonds of love will shine on for as long as they are maintained. Thus, I ask that you both put these rings on the third finger of the other’s left hand; as they have no end, your love is also forever. Wear them with love and joy, and take care of and cherish them as you would each other.”

As the Exarch spoke, Thancred plucked a ring from the velvet sleeve keeping it in place. Gingerly taking Rahela’s left hand with his free one, he slowly slid the silver band over her gloved ring finger, not passing up the chance to make her squeak by delivering a gentlemanly kiss to his bride’s knuckles.

Flicking her ears and smiling so wide her cheeks hurt, Rahela in turn repeated the motion, putting his own wedding band on his ring finger. And she, too, couldn’t resist the temptation to nuzzle against his hand and kiss his palm before letting him go.

With a pleased little smile, G’raha handed the coffer back to Taynor; Rahela managed to ruffle the boy’s hair in appreciation as he returned to his spot.

The anticipation in the air began to build now; now, the Exarch would be reaching the end of his officiant’s speech; accordingly, he cleared his throat, and resumed, “Norvrandt shall never forget the heroes who returned the night sky to us, nor the love that drove them. For our part, we wish you well, and pledge to celebrate our time with you all until the very moment of your departure for home; that we might remember it--and you--with fondness and appreciation. Our lives are richer for having known you.”

“And for your part: whether it be in times of peace or in strife, may you always stand together. May you always be blessed with the fortitude to surpass any and all trials that lie ahead. May you always be blessed with the patience to amicably resolve any arguments in your home. May you always honor the pledge you’ve made in your hearts and in your deeds. For love is much like life itself; it is both fleeting and enduring, and it is more precious and powerful than any force in all creation. Go forth into the future, my friends.”

A short but poignant pause. G’raha’s ears betrayed his excitement by perking up as he began the conclusion of the ceremony:

“With that, by the power vested in me by the good people of the Crystarium, I pronounce the two of you—”

G’raha trailed off. Rahela thought he was taking another pause, when suddenly, she noticed…

… Colors. Translucent, misty colors speckled with tiny little stars, slowly floating and swirling around and above the gathering at the stairs. Slowly, everyone noticed, but it looked near enough to the previous display of fae magic that most assumed it was more of the same. Y’shtola, however, stared upwards in amazement at the display, seeming to _recognize_ it; the aether-sighted miqo’te murmured to herself, “It can’t be…”

The Lifestream…?

Then, at that moment, Rahela felt a familiar presence… No, several of them…

Looking around, she could see several others reacting in a similar way to her. Thancred, Ryne, Alisaie, Alphinaud, Y’shtola, Urianger, Taynor, Cyella… And in the audience, too; Beq Lugg, Cerigg, Giott, Granson, and Lue-Reeq seemed to sense something familiar in the mist, as well…

… And that was when she heard voices in her head.

The first voice was one she’d almost forgotten amid memories of horror. But now, hearing it as it should have been sent a bittersweet pang into her heart…

_“I never would have dreamed it. You and Alisaie, Warriors of Darkness… But here we are. I knew you were strong, but I never would have guessed that you would save Halric, me, and all the world… Thank you.”_

Her voice was followed by more, one after the other…

_“You delivered justice upon the wretch who wrought me and mine into those monstrous creatures, and soothed the pain they caused. All I can do in return is thank you, and wish you a long, happy life with your love…”_

_“Thank you, for everything. For stopping us, for sparing Cylva, for telling everyone the truth, for saving our world, for returning Ardbert to us… Go on, be happy, and keep healing this world as you’ve healed our spirits.”_

_“We thought we should be here, to watch you get married… Not that it makes up for what we did. But, still. Enjoy your time with him; you let him into your heart, make sure you don’t regret it in the end. And… tell those twins, I’m sorry about the arrows.”_

_“You have done all that I could not. You saved my friend, my home… And yet, I feel no envy, or resentment; just relief. That Taynor will get to live in a safe, peaceful world, it’s all that I could have hoped for. Knowing that you and he have both forgiven me means more than mere words can say.”_

The others seemed to be hearing voices as well; Alisaie seemed shocked, but she let out a long and slow breath, looking… almost relieved. Cyella’s eyes were closed, her lower lip quivering. Taynor stared into the mist, tearful longing plain on his face…

Thancred and Ryne… They were both frozen in disbelief, eyes wide open and forgetting to breathe.

Then, Rahela heard one more, achingly familiar voice.

_“Look to the empty seats.”_

All at once, she saw… The seats were all filled. Sitting and watching the ceremony in the seats that were left open for them. The ghostly forms of Tesleen, Branden, Lamitt, Renda-Rae, Nyelbert, and…

_Minfy…_

Not just Rahela, Thancred, and Ryne, but all the Scions could see her, as well.

_She smiled, holding the cosmos flowers, as warm and serene as Rahela remembered her. “Don’t worry. Even if you can’t see me, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always love and watch over you all. Take care of each other…”_

Thancred almost reached out his hand for her, parting his lips as if he wanted to say something to her… But, instead, he lowered his arm, returning the smile, and wordlessly nodded to her.

Minfilia closed her eyes, and she and the other shades faded along with the mists of the Lifestream, the colors and motes of light disappearing into the night sky above…

… Save for one, faint presence; an armored, ghostly hand, fondly squeezing Rahela's shoulder, and a deep, familiar voice in her heart.

_“Congratulations, Rah. And good luck. You’ll always know where I am.”_

… She looked down, and with a long, slow exhale, she shut her eyes, smiled, and… Balled up her fist, and touched it to his.

And then, his presence faded as well. The only out-of-place thing that remained was…

A shoebill. Standing as stone-faced as ever, at the center of the aisle. Ryne blinked in surprise to see the bird she befriended in the Tempest, but it kept its gaze firmly on Rahela for several seconds before turning around and flying off.

_“You’re welcome, hero.”_

She watched it leave, stunned at everything that had just happened, and unsure if that final voice was just her imagination, or if it was actually _him…_

Some confused murmuring arose from the audience; most didn’t seem to notice any sorts of specters in the crowd, only the mists. G’raha leaned in towards the couple, and asked with worry in his eyes…

“Rahela? Thancred? Are you alright? Do you need a moment…?”

“Y-yeah,” Rah said, wiping away her tears for the third time that day. “We’re good…”

“We did leave those seats open in the hopes that Minfilia and our other friends were watching,” Thancred admitted in a low, shaky voice, massaging his own tired, reddening eyes. “We just… Didn’t expect actual _confirmation_ of that…”

With that confirmed, the Exarch addressed the restless audience: “My apologies, friends. T’was remiss of me to go this entire ceremony without giving the proper dues to our friends who look upon us from the Sunless Sea. After all, we would never have gotten this far without them. I do believe that colorful mist that appeared was a result of them offering their blessings to these two heroes as they go forward onto the future; and to remind us that they’re always with us as we celebrate.”

“And I believe it is time for us to celebrate as well,” G’raha said, the excitement from before now returning. “Now, without further ado…”

The groom sucked in a breath. The bride's hair and tail fluffed up in excitement…

_“Thancred and Rahela: by the power vested in me by the good people of the Crystarium, I pronounce the two of you Husband and Wife! I believe it is time for you to seal your union with a kiss!”_

Without the slightest hesitation, the two all but crashed into each other mouth-first, kissing each other like it was their first all over again.

The audience, and what seemed to be the whole Crystarium, erupted into deafening cheers and claps; cheering so loud that even the amplified music of Thiuna’s piano was barely audible. Rahela arched into Thancred’s embrace, her arms circling tight around his shoulders while he leaned forward into her. For a long while, they were simply basking in that long-awaited, well-deserved moment…

… But they had to open their eyes and separate eventually. And eventually, they did so; and what met them coming out of the kiss was each other; the other’s smiling face set against a joyful, colorful cacophony of lights fluttering down from the sky just like the luminescent flower petals. Looking up to find the source, it was none other than Titania themself, along with Rahela’s other pixie friends. Feo Ul, Tyr Beq, An Lad, and Ezel Il, all laughing and ecstatic and soaring overhead as they scattered the shining lights over the crowd.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen were clapping too. Alphinaud, Alisaie, Y’shtola, and Urianger were all clapping. Ryne bounded up to the two of them and threw herself into Rahela’s arms, knocking her back into Thancred’s, the newly-official family hugging each other with enormous grins.

Despite the noise, Rahela felt a calmness wash over her. Everybody was so happy for them… 

She leaned into her new husband, and he easily scooped his new wife up into his arms. With Ryne at his side, Thancred carried Rah up the stairs and through the Crystal Tower gates, followed closely by G’raha and the other Scions. The heavy mechanical doors slid shut, and everything was blessedly quiet now…

Rahela opened her eyes to see the interior of Syrcus, with most everyone around her seeming to half-collapse in relief. Thancred sat himself down on the floor, with Rahela in his lap, and Ryne plopped down beside them. She could only concur, sighing out, “Gods, we finally made it…”

Y’shtola, meanwhile, crossed her arms and furrowed her brow in contemplation. Noticing this, and quickly understanding the reason for such, Urianger broke the silence and asked, “What sayest thou, Y’shtola? ”

The scholar hesitated a few moments before speaking. “‘I can only speculate as to why, but… The Lifestream manifested to the naked eye, and a select number of souls were carried upon its currents, gravitating them towards objects that carried great significance to them in life. And, once the souls reached those objects, they were able to perceive events transpiring in the material plane. And more than that, those who knew them were able to see and hear them…”

Looking down, with a bittersweet smile, Alisaie mused, “I doubt I could grasp the aetherology behind it, but… They all looked happy.”

All could agree on that. They settled into easy conversation; congratulating the happy couple, complimenting Ryne for the gorgeous display of flower petals, as well as the Exarch for his heartfelt officiant’s speech. This peaceful moment persisted a short while, before… 

… Rahela’s stomach growled, low and long, but loud enough to reach the ears of all. A few chuckles followed, the tension having been broken.

 _“Rahelaaa?_ ” Y’shtola’s voice had that ‘mother sensing her child did something wrong’ tone again. “Have you eaten anything today?”

Sheepishly folding her ears down, she admitted, “… Not a full, proper meal. I had a bread roll this morning, and a good amount of water.”

G’raha smiled in sympathy. “I can’t very well say that I blame you; Hanji-Fae and her colleagues at the Second Serving are exceptional chefs. If they’d made a seven-course reception feast in _my_ honor, I’d save room for it, as well.”

“Even so,” Alisaie remarked, “With all the running around you’ve done today, looking for flowers and getting ready, I’m surprised you didn’t collapse during the ceremony.”

“And what a mercy that you didn’t,” Alphinaud said, plainly full of relief. “Everything went so smoothly. I’m so used to weddings where there’s some kind of disaster; but there were no sudden illnesses, no ailments, no injuries…”

”No storms…” Urianger concurred, flowing the thought effortlessly.

“No swarms of insects…” Alisaie continued.

“No one catching fire…” Y’shtola mused.

“No illicit substances were involved…” Even G’raha, who had not lived in Sharlayan for at least a century and then some, could recall a wedding horror story. 

“This time the bride was actually _supposed_ to declare her love for me mid-ceremony, and it didn’t end with attempted murder…” Thancred sighed, this specific instance clearly something that directly involved him. The only two non-Sharlayans in the room, Rahela and Ryne, glanced at each other in growing alarm.

Alarm to the point where Rah blurted out, “Are you Sharlayans _okay?_ Why are your weddings so messed up?”

A grim look crossed Urianger’s face. “‘Twould be better if some stories were to remain untold, I fear.”

… Well, they had all seen some shite, that much was clear.

“But, let’s not get complacent just yet,” Alisaie stated to the other honor attendants. “The reception still presents a prime opportunity for things to go wrong. We have to stay vigilant!”

“While still also enjoying ourselves,” Alphinaud gently reminded his sister.

“Speaking of the reception, some time remains before it starts,” the Exarch said, addressing Rahela and Thancred. “Beq Lugg and some of the other mages are setting up the tables and food as we speak. The rest of us can aid them, so you two take this chance to relax while you can. When you make your grand entrance to the reception, you’ll have your first dance as a married couple.”

He then departed the Tower to return to the Exedra, with the other Scions following close behind, (Though not before Ryne gave both of them one last happy hug) leaving the newlyweds alone. Once the doors had slid back shut, they looked at each other, and grimaced in unison.

_Oh, right… Dancing…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> collapses
> 
> there's still the reception to go. pray for me.


	12. The Reception (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding reception has begun! Rahela dances with her new husband, greets a number of friends, and listens to her friends give their toasts…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Beetle for her help in writing Urianger!
> 
> (Also, for the song that I used to write the Newlyweds’ Dance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6p534SJL5Q)

“Hey, lovey…”

“Hm?”

“Do you feel any different…?”

“I…” Thancred lolled his head back to look at the ceiling, and exhaled. “I think it’s still sinking in.”

“We’re _married.”_ Rahela murmured, a bit in awe of what just happened. “ _We’re_ married.”

“Surreal, isn’t it? In the best possible way.”

“Yeah…”

The pair had been waiting in the Syrcus Tower foyer for a short while, mentally preparing for the reception. The reprieve had been brief, but welcome; they had time to wash their faces and rehydrate after the tears they had shed during the ceremony. And now, they stood together, side-by-side before the doors, ready to walk back out and make their ‘grand entrance’ together.

Thancred admitted, “I’m not used to making grand entrances when people are actually _expecting_ me.”

“Well, this time you’re not jumping in to save me at the last moment. We’re just…” Rah trailed off, now nervous again. 

He completed her sentence, “... Walking down some stairs into a courtyard, where everyone will be clapping and cheering for us, and then watch us dance like we’re royalty. Doesn’t exactly suit us, does it…?”

“Maybe not… but they didn’t have to be here; they’re happy for us.” Rahela smiled and flicked her ears. “They deserve a chance to celebrate and have fun, and so do we.”

A little huff of a laugh escaped Thancred’s lips. “True enough.”

Moments later, they heard a muffled voice on the other side of the ancient Allagan doors; G’raha’s voice, amplified loud enough to pierce through them. Seconds after Rahela managed to make out the words _‘my greatest honor to introduce,’_ a sudden rumble from the doors signalled that they were about to open. It was time.

Offering her his hand to his new wife, Thancred took a deep breath. “Are you ready, Dove…?”

Heart feeling lighter than air, Rahela entwined her fingers with her new husband’s, and grinned. “Ready!”

Once the gates had parted wide enough, they squeezed each other’s hands and passed through together… Where the emerging couple were met with the sound of G’raha announcing their names, followed by Feo Ul pointing their staff downward to shine a _spotlight_ on them, making them squint their eyes in pain at the sudden brightness. That was followed by the cheers and applause of hundreds of attendees forming a circle of empty space in the Exedra.

“O-Okay, this might be a _little bit_ much…” Rahela murmured, nervously waving to the crowd.

“Well,” Thancred said with a shrug, “As you said. All things considered, we’ve earned ourselves some indulgence. Just keep your _eyes on me,_ alright?”

Realizing the joke, Rah giggled, “How long were you waiting to use that one?”

Cracking a smile himself, he replied, “You picked the song, you’ve no one to blame but yourself.”

In fact, speaking of the song… As soon as they began their descent down the steps, Rahela spotted Thiuna with Noddy at the edge of the space that served as the dance floor; and as they reached the halfway point, the song slowly began to fade in…

Strings playing a heroic-sounding melody; _very soft and warm, but with a strength to it…_ And then, those strings swelled into an enthusiastic fanfare as the newlyweds set foot on the dance floor and made their way to the center. The rest of the world faded out as Rahela and Thancred faced each other; he bowed, she curtsied, they drew close to each other, the music transitioned into the main melody, and…

As the sweet sound of F’lhaminn’s singing voice filled the air, their dance began. Thancred led, and Rahela followed… 

It started slow; despite the lessons they’d taken in anticipation of this very night, their movements were careful, keeping in time with the music. Rahela found herself remembering little and less of the mechanics of formal dancing, and her mind wandered towards…

… The feeling of his arms around her. His motions guiding hers. His smile putting her heart at ease…

_I saw you smiling at me, was it real or just my fantasy…?_

From the very first time they crossed paths, seeing him smile was so calming for her…

As they danced and moved in tandem, even more memories flashed through Rahela’s mind, in accordance with how they mirrored every lyric of the song. And then, the tempo picked up as it reached the chorus, a drumbeat coming in to set a faster rhythm; she leaned into her husband’s embrace as they spun around. She was running her hands up his back; the next lyric had the singer bring up the idea of pinching her lover _‘softly, but sure’_ to make sure they weren’t dreaming, and she contemplated doing exactly that, when—

“—Ow.”

… He pinched her first. She pouted at him. He grinned, and commented. “I knew you were going to do it, so I suppose I beat you to the _pinch.”_

Gods damn him with his puns… Rah couldn’t resist the temptation to giggle again, and nuzzle against his chin.

Their dance continued; all else faded out, leaving only him, her, and the song. Lightly as a feather they moved in tandem, he twirled her and pulled her up against him, arm around her waist and fingers interlocked with hers. And to her surprise, she heard Thancred humming—no, _very quietly singing—_ along with the music.

 _“So let me come to you, close as I want to be… Close enough for me to feel your heart beating fast…”_ He bent forward, dipping her low enough that her back nearly paralleled the ground. _“And stay there as I whisper, ‘How I love your peaceful eyes on me…’ Did you ever know, that I had mine on you…?”_

Practically melting with joy, she smiled giddily as they swept through each and every dance movement that she didn’t remember the name for. Right now, filled with love as they were, all of their past tears and pain felt so small. 

He spun her outward, the skirts of her dress flaring up as she twirled; and as he pulled her back in, Rahela was surprised to hear his voice ringing out in laughter. And she laughed along with him, with their dance becoming so easy and effortless that it felt like a dream. But they knew it wasn’t.

They continued as the song reached its climax; with the grins on their face, one would think their worries and anxieties for the future never existed. Before long, they weren’t even dancing anymore; she had thrown her arms around his shoulders, his arms around her torso, and he was spinning on his heels and twirling her around fast enough to lift her off the ground. For the present, at least, they were happy and relieved and smiling…

Then, the final chorus from ‘Eyes On Me’ finished, and the song ended; Thancred slowed down and eventually stopped, and Rahela’s feet were back on the ground. Vaguely registering the sound of cheering and applause, she held her husband and savored the embrace as they panted for breath in unison… going weak in the knees and leaning on her for support.

A tired smile on her face and overwhelming fondness in her heart, she petted the back of his head. “Hah… Hah… You feeling okay, lovey…?”

“Hah…” He murmured, a bit hazily, “Just a bit dizzy… Ears are ringing a bit, too… I might be hungry, myself…”

“Mm,” Rah nodded, wrapping an arm around his waist as they began walking to their table. “Then let’s get you sat down and wait for the food.”

… Except the two had barely time to get to their seats in the center table before Alphinaud tapped Rahela’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you must be tired, but, well…” Alphinaud hesitated, but Rahela canted her head inquisitively, indicating to him that he could keep going. Then, he gestured to a large concentration of guests that Alisaie was slowly corralling into a mostly single-file line. “… As you can see, there’s a great deal of people who wish to congratulate you face-to-face before we’re all seated for dinner. Do you wish to speak with them?”

Looking at all of them in that long line, Rahela had to remind herself all over again that these were all people she knew, and not strangers; she could talk to one of her friends with no issue, and this crowd was almost entirely made up of all of those friends put together. She could handle this… _Right?_

Thankfully, much to her relief and delight, the people at the front of the line were none other than the Chais.

“Oooh, Rahela!” The lady of the pair announced herself with an overjoyed squeal, “I’m _so, so happy_ for you, my sweet…!”

And Rah responded in kind; _“Dulia-Chai!”_

Seeing the two draw closer to one another with arms wide open, Chai-Nuzz called out in a panic: “D-dearest, no, you’ll--!”

It was too late; Rahela gleefully leapt into Dulia-Chai’s hug as he watched in horror. But, to his shock, the enormous hug that wrought havoc on his spine and left him aching for hours… didn’t affect Rahela at all. Dulia thrashed her from side-to-side, but unlike him, the younger woman seemed completely unaffected by the crushing force. In fact, she seemed to be _enjoying it_ , still grinning from ear-to-ear, even as he heard her back giving a distinct little _‘pop!’_

To Chai-Nuzz’s complete astonishment, Rah was practically purring by the time Dulia-Chai set her down. In fact, she cheerily greeted him in turn.

“Thank you both so much for coming! I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy for you two to get time off for this.”

He cleared his throat and replied, “Well, it did take some convincing on Wrenden’s part, but. Obviously, I managed.”

“‘Convincing?’” Rah repeated, canting her head.

“Well, you’ve seen how he is. Simply wanting to see and congratulate you and Alphinaud and all your friends wasn’t enough to justify spending a whole day away from the city; but once I spoke of how you all came to my inauguration, and how I was honor-bound to repay you for that show of support, he finally relented!”

“And I’m so glad he did,” Dulia-Chai cooed to her husband, still cuddling Rahela tight. “Look at her, she’s so beautiful! I keep saying she looks like she could be ours, don’t I?”

Flushing pink at the compliment, Rahela leaned into her hug. Looking back on their first meeting, she never expected that she would be so fond of the Eulmoran couple; she had been justifiably wary of them at the beginning, but… Even so, she was rather quickly endeared to Lady Chai; perhaps it had something to do with the noblewoman’s remarking with sheer delight that, as brunette Mystel women who were varying degrees of full-figured, they could indeed pass for mother and daughter. Eventually, it began to actually feel that way. And once Chai-Nuzz finally began to rise to the occasion of saving Norvrandt, Rahela couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain other engineering genius whom she loved like a father.

(She used to harbor a small hope in the back of her mind that Cid would one day meet her mother, that they would hit it off, and just maybe… And now, knowing what she knew now about souls, she couldn’t help but wonder if…)

“That she is, dearest,” Chai-Nuzz’s voice snapped her out of her contemplation as he agreed with his wife. Smiling warmly, he added “Nearly as radiant as _you_ were on our wedding day…”

Dulia giggled at that, “Oh, you _charmer…_ ” And at that, she pulled Nuzz in by the waist, making him join Rahela in the hug.

“NNGH—!” He choked, reflexively squirming as she squeezed both himself and Rahela tighter than a vice…

… But only for a moment, as she promptly released them and said, “Oh, but we’re holding up the rest of the line, aren’t we? Congratulations again, my sweet, you’ll know where to find us if you ever need advice!”

“Of course, Mama Chai!”

“Good girl,” the Mystel said, giving Rahela an affectionate peck on the cheek. And with that, Dulia-Chai made her way towards the tables, gesturing for her husband to follow. “Come, come, dearest, let’s go find our seats!”

Chai-Nuzz, however, had to take a moment to regain his breath. “Hah… Hah… Somehow it’s not as spine-breaking when she’s hugging two people at once… I must remember that…”

Rahela vaguely recalled some enemies with attacks where the brunt of the attack was too great to be borne by only one person, so the damage had to be split between her and her comrades together… But she couldn’t see the comparison between that and Dulia’s hugs. 

The Mystel man cleared his throat and straightened his collar. “Ahem, yes, well. As my wife said, Rahela: if you need us, you know where to find us.” He shook Rah’s hand, and made one last admission: “... It’s so surreal; if you told me last year that not only was the Warrior of Darkness real, but she would one day topple Vauthry, I wouldn’t believe you. And if you told me that she would be marrying the man who kidnapped—no, _freed_ the Oracle of Light, I’d think you were making up stories. And on top of all of that, if you said that _I_ would be at the wedding, celebrating happily? I’d assume you were just having a go at me. But, now that it’s all said and done, I’m glad everything turned out the way it did. Thank you for everything.”

He flinched as Rah threw her arms around him for a hug. But, upon finding that he _wasn’t_ having his ribs and spine and organs crushed, he was able to return it this time.

Up next, Jeryk and Thaffe had cleaned up nicely, both of them wearing formal dress shirts; Thaffe was still surprised that Magnus had agreed to be a groomsman, but not that surprised, considering the rapport that he and Thancred had formed during and after the Scions’ brief stay in Twine. The red-haired miner offered his congratulations before walking away to look for Magnus in the crowd, while Jeryk had more to say.

For starters, he greeted his friend with a warm grin and a hug; “Congratulations, Rah! The ceremony was amazing! But, I was a bit surprised; when you asked to borrow the Talos and a hand trolley, I was _so sure_ that you were going to use it in the ceremony proper.” His expression quickly turned crestfallen. “That’s the only thing that would have made it absolutely perfect; you in your dress, riding a nice, lovely trolley decorated with flowers, being pushed down the aisle by a Talos wearing a suit…”

“Oh, no, Jeryk, I’m sorry. I had already asked Feo Ul to walk me; the Talos and the hand trolley were for bringing out the cake. Just wait around a little bit, and you’ll see it. But, you know, that’s still a great idea; why don’t you save it for your own wedding, if that’s something you want?”

Jeryk lit up with excitement, the idea evidently not having crossed his mind until she mentioned it. “Oh! I didn’t even think about that! I’ll get to work as soon as we get home! You think Thaffe will say yes…?”

As in, would Thaffe say yes to a hypothetical marriage proposal from Jeryk? Or would Thaffe have the final say on the idea, even if he wasn’t Jeryk’s partner in the hypothetical marriage? Either way, Rahela made a calming motion, and gently urged, “B-but, wait, don’t decide to get married _just_ so you can have a trolley and Talos at the wedding, either. I meant, just keep it in mind for whenever you do. Okay?”

The miner pouted again, but this time in acceptance. “Yeah, you’re probably right…”

_“LALI-HOOOO!”_

The shouted greeting left no doubt as to who made it. A helmeted dwarf cheerfully waddled up to her, with a frog-like automaton rolling behind.

 _“Lali-ho!”_ Rahela happily returned the dwarven greeting. “Thank you for coming, Ronitt! How are things in upper Kholusia?”

“Never better!” The young Tholl declared. “We’ve been harvesting all that gold and polished marble left behind on Mt. Gulg; turns out that stuff is worth a pretty gil! And best of all, we don’t have to fight a single, sodding Gogg over any of it! In fact, rumor is that their hands are full with some new menace they’ve brought upon themselves.”

Oh, hells. If it was the machine lifeforms or more enemy androids, Rahela would very reluctantly have to do something about that… Tomorrow. So she had to ask, “Do you know what kind of menace?”

Ronitt beckoned for her to lean down, so she did, at which point he whispered into her ear, “The rumor’s unverified, so you didn’t hear it from me, but what I’ve heard is that the Goggs found a new type of automaton; supposedly it's some kind of box on wheels with a banner and a weird face attached to it. But get this: they lost control of the damned thing! Heh, typical Goggs, can’t even get automaton-making right. What's strange, though, is that the automaton is so fast that nobody can even get a good look at it, let alone catch it. Apparently, for the last few days it’s been zooming around all over the mountains at lightning speed, and it hasn’t showed any signs of slowing down or running out of fuel. But it hasn’t run anyone over, though there’ve been some near-misses. All it does is sing unintelligibly and play some kind of loud and obnoxiously _brassy_ music as it goes.”

Having no idea what to make of that, Rahela could only form a response of, “... Huh. Weird.”

Ronitt agreed, “Aye, I’m curious to know what happens next. Anyroad, thanks for the party, Rahela! I’ve never been to the Crystarium before, and I mean to get so drunk that I forget ever coming here in the first place!”

“Well, fair warning that I won’t correct you if you do.”

“RAHELA!” Came a loud, familiar voice. “GLAD TIDINGS UPON THIS JOYOUS NIGHT!”

“Ugh… Please, Quinfort, at least say ‘hello’ first…”

“Hey, you two!” Rah greeted Quinfort and Valan with a wave as they approached. “How’ve you been? Did you enjoy the ceremony?”

“Of course!” Valan said, smiling. “Runar and practically everyone who’s here from Slitherbough got emotional at the sight of the glowing flower petals; they looked just like the heartstones in the Darker. And the flowers from Fanow were beautiful, too; Phyna was really happy with the bouquet.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Rah said, returning the smile.

“You have further reason to rejoice, my friend!” Quinfort declared, raising a finger with certainty. “For it has been revealed to me that the Great Serpent of Ronka blesses your union, and that there would be a sign of such delivered unto this gathering!”

Putting his hands on his hips, Valan frowned. “Really, Quinfort, I keep telling you, the serpent’s been with Rahela this whole time; if it _dis_ approved of her getting married, all it would have needed to do is just, you know, bite her with those four little teeth?” Valan then raised his hands to his mouth, arranging his fingers in a way that imitated the X-shaped fangs of the great serpent.

Quinfort, however, took offense at the very suggestion. “How dare you suggest the great one would do such a thing as base as _biting someone?!”_

“W-well, whatever the case, I’m glad the great serpent didn’t bite me, _or_ try to issue any kind of divine retribution,” Rahela mollified the bickering pair. She then explained, “I actually haven’t seen it recently; but I would be more than happy if it did show up and do something to show its approval!!”

Both of them looked to her, and Quinfort confidently nodded. He proclaimed, “I shall pray and make sure the great serpent blesses you with a peaceful and prosperous future!”

Valan’s expression softened, and he admitted, “Well, it’s the thought that counts…”

So the line went onwards; with person after person, each congratulating her and catching up with her, until eventually she was informed that it was _finally_ time for the toasts, which would be immediately followed by the food.

Everyone eventually situated themselves at their tables; Thancred, Rahela, and Ryne sat front and center at a long table, with the other Scions at their sides. Rah looked out over the murmuring crowd, flicking her tail in anticipation of the speeches. And Thancred took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for his honor attendants to lay bare every single embarrassing incident that occurred in his adolescence and adulthood…

All the honor attendants had drawn lots to see in what order they would give their speeches of the reception; and as luck would have it, Y’shtola was first. She stood up, glancing at every Scion with a wry smile before tapping on her glass with a fork, drawing the attention of all the attendees.

“Greetings and welcome to all of you this fine evening,” she announced. “While my dear friends in the Night’s Blessed know me as Master Matoya, and most others refer to me as Y’shtola Rhul, I feel it appropriate to introduce myself with the title that Thancred has bestowed upon me… _The Best Woman.”_

A smug little grin crossed her face as she spoke those last three words, and that got a laugh out of the crowd, while Thancred rolled his eyes in bemusement.

She cleared her throat. “Ah, begging your pardon. Such preening is unbecoming of me. But even so, Thancred and I have known each other for many years, and I am quite gladdened to know that he would trust me enough to let me make a speech about him, in public, on his wedding day. I thanked him when he offered the position to me, and promised to make the most of it.”

… The look on her face seemed to unsettle the groom.

“But I digress. This has been quite an unusual and remarkable time for us all. When Thancred and Rahela informed us of their engagement, I could scarcely believe my ears. I was similarly shocked when first I learned of their relationship by chancing to spot them on a romantic outing; watching the sunset together by a lake, smiling and speaking warmly to each other, in their own little world. Seeing this, I was unsure of what to think, my feelings mixed.”

Rahela felt her face getting warm, recalling that date and realizing that Y’shtola had seen them…

“And why were my feelings mixed? Well… On the one hand, Thancred had built up something of a reputation that, suffice it to say, had given me reason to be _quite incredulous_ when he’d expressed fondness for members of the fairer sex.” She paused, allowing time for those listening to absorb the implications of what she said. Then she went on, “But on the other hand; he had only recently recovered from a most dreadful ordeal, and with her, he looked more content and happy than I had seen him in years. Though I certainly wanted to believe the best in him, past experiences told me to be wary. So I was left unsure as to whether his feelings for her were sincere or not. That is, until one rather amusing incident in our homeland…”

Rah could have sworn she saw Thancred’s jaw set in concern, not knowing which ‘amusing incident’ she was about to describe…

Y’shtola began, “During a mission together, we had had a run-in with a plantlike race known as the sylphs with a penchant for glamours and pranks; not unlike the pixies. The sylphs set off a smoke bomb in our midst, and sent each of us running in various directions. Thancred, a mite overzealous in his attempt to evade our ambushers, mistakenly collided with a sylvan device that dispensed a hallucinatory substance called ‘milkroot’ in mist form, and he subsequently inhaled a great deal of it.”

A few surprised murmurs arose from the crowd, while the groom flushed slightly. Not his finest hour.

“Meanwhile, the sylphs had taken our forms in an effort to sow confusion among us, with… _varying_ degrees of success. While most of us succeeded in regrouping and expelling the imposters, Thancred remained unaccounted for. At that exact moment, right in the middle of calling for him, Rahela tripped over his body, lying prone in the grass. While his mind was malms away, and he smelled positively dreadful, he was otherwise unharmed. We asked if he was alright; he said the trees were melting, but he himself was feeling excellent. We asked if he remembered why we were there; he babbled a bit, but gave a satisfactory answer. Our comrade Lyse, however, having already been fooled by his doppelgänger once, thought to confirm his identity with a question that only the _real_ Thancred would know the answer to: _‘Why don't you tell us what you think of Rahela?’_ And not realizing that Rahela herself was listening, the inebriated Thancred answered with complete sincerity, only slightly paraphrased for the sake of coherence:”

The look of alarm on Thancred’s face only increased. Even when he asked after the fact, nobody would dare repeat what he said during his milkroot high; even Rahela only blushed and merely told him it was _’sweet.’_

Y’shtola took a deep breath, and began her best Thancred impression:

_“‘Oh, Rah… My dove is no fragile rose, but more a lily-of-the-valley: so adorable, so sweet, so delicate, and yet… She survives the harshest of circumstances, fighting through frigid winters and scorching summers; no force in this world could wilt her. The resilient pink petals that are her smiling lips have intoxicated me with but a single kiss, and my love for her is beyond what a mere minstrel such as I could put to parchment!’”_

Uproarious laughter arose from the audience at her impersonation of the groom; even Rahela couldn’t suppress her giggling at the memory, even as Thancred buried his face in his hands.

“Wow,” Ryne murmured, amazed at the literal flowery language. “I didn’t know Thancred was ever a poet…”

Y’shtola permitted herself a chuckle of her own before clearing her throat to continue. “Ahem. And Thancred then made some mention of his ‘minstrel blood’ or other such nonsense, but we cut him off there, satisfied that he was no imposter; though I would have gladly listened to him ramble all night, we had work to do. That, and Rahela was blushing so brightly she could serve as a beacon for the enemy. But thenceforth, after hearing him speak thus even in an altered state of mind, I was convinced that Thancred’s adoration and commitment to her was genuine.”

Thancred muttered to Rah, half in disbelief, half completely unsurprised: “It took my getting high on milkroot mist to convince her that I really loved you…” Rah patted him on the shoulder.

“But, in all seriousness…” Y’shtola went on, her expression softening, “… I’m proud of you, Thancred. Through all the struggles and mistakes you’ve made, you’ve grown. And you were lucky enough to have the love and support of many along the way… But standing by you where others faltered, remaining patient and loving where others grew frustrated…” She turned her head to face Rahela. “… Was a lovely, kind woman, who learned to see through your posturing and deflecting, and help you out of your ruts. May you cherish and thank her every day; for if you don’t, I shall never let you hear the end of it.”

“And for your part, Rahela, I have one other incident to share. An incident where Thancred and I faced an oncoming horde of enemies in a narrow tunnel, and my… ‘plan,’ so to speak, was to bring down said tunnel upon their heads, and ours. And in describing this plan to him, I happened to remark that I did not relish the thought of being entombed with him for all eternity… But his response caught me quite by surprise; he said…”

Folding her ears back, Rahela leaned in to listen; she’d never heard much about what happened between her and Minfilia reluctantly leaving them behind and the casting of Flow…

Y’shtola began another imitation of Thancred, this one markedly less comedic: _“‘You wound me! I will have you know that there is a wonderful maid whose dearest wish was to spend forever at my side--a wish that I requited, lest you wonder!’”_

Rah could barely believe what she’d heard; even as he was expecting to die, he… Gods, even just remembering, she had nearly been taken back to that night. The very moment she heard the heavy stone crashing down--the very moment she was sure she’d lost him--she couldn’t walk, _she couldn’t stand she couldn’t move shecouldn’tbreathe she--!_

\--Felt a firm pressure closing around hers. Thancred had taken it and squeezed, to remind her that it was all in the past, and he was here. And now, she knew that even back then, he had wanted to spend the rest of his life with her…

“But of course, all this to say…” Y’shtola slow-blinked at her fellow miqo’te, with sincere fondness in both her expression and her voice. “Rahela: you’ve helped Thancred to change from the better, and I truly thank you for making an honest man out of this blackguard. You’ve brought out the best in not only him, but in all of us. It was no secret that we began to drift apart in the wake of our many losses, but you pulled us back together. Our family wasn’t complete without you.”

Y’shtola lifted her glass in one hand and patted Thancred on the shoulder with the other, and the crowd clapped out of appreciation for the speech. Both the bride and groom could only respond with grateful smiles and misty eyes; she returned the smiles, and nodded.

After waiting a short time for the applause to die down, it was Alisaie’s turn to give a speech. The Maid of Honor stood up, glass in hand, took a deep breath, and began…

“Right. Well, I’m not usually one for speeches, so: Congratulations to Rahela and Thancred, thank you all for coming, and goodnight.” Alisaie began the motion of sitting down and ending her speech then and there, but then cracked a smile and stood back up. “No, no, don’t worry, I’m only joking.”

Several in the crowd got a chuckle out of said joke, while a few others rolled their eyes, albeit still in amusement. She then began again:

“But, I’ll never forget the first time I saw Rahela. It was a deceptively short time ago when, on a cool desert night, my brother and I disembarked from the ship that had brought us from our homeland; we boarded a cart that would take us to the nearest city, and the only two other passengers were a beardy Hume peddler fellow who greeted us quite cheerfully, and… a young Mystel woman, sprawled out on the seat opposite ours and sleeping like a log. Her hair disheveled, her clothes askew, smelling of sweat, looking just a mess. If you told me back then that Mystel would become a mighty hero and the most incredible person I’ve ever met, I would have laughed rather haughtily at you.”

Rahela pursed her lips at the description of her sleeping; of course she looked a mess, she’d walked from Cape Deadwind all the way to Little Ala Mhigo by the time she spotted the cart that would take her to Ul’dah. She was exhausted, and fell asleep almost immediately.

(That was when she had her dream, hearing Hydaelyn and seeing Lahabrea…)

“But, of course, we saw more of each other. We met a few more times at some pompous state events, but we didn’t actually talk to each other; those meetings were just her listening to my brother explain politics at her. Our real first meeting was--” Alisaie cut herself off, and then said, “You know what, it’s a long story, but to abridge it: Rahela and I explored some holes in the ground, she fought a bunch of dragons and monstrosities, and helped me to say goodbye to my long-lost grandfather. It was… a trying ordeal for the both of us. But even as she stared her own greatest fears in the face, she was always more concerned with my own well-being. Always lending an ear, always being kind and supportive…

“But even then, that was mostly just her helping me through my own issues; so I wasn’t _really_ getting to know her, just watching her fight from a distance. But even so, after the ordeal was over, I decided that I would stop watching from the sidelines and began following her example… Going on an adventure, finding my own way, learning how to fight… And when I returned from that journey, I finally joined the Scions, and got to know the real Rahela. And now, I know the truth…”

Rahela leaned forward, curious to know how Alisaie was going to finish that sentence…

“The truth is that the bravest, most incredible, most heroic woman I’ve ever met… Is also the most _ridiculous_ woman I’ve ever met.”

… Oh.

She pouted, and received a pat on the shoulder from Thancred while another laugh rose up from the attendees. 

Alisaie went on, “I say that with the utmost of fondness, mind you; Rahela’s strength is surpassed only by the warmth of her heart. She’s a fearsome lioness to her enemies, and an affectionate cat to her friends. It took me a long while to reconcile those two things, and sometimes I’m still befuddled at how one woman can save the world multiple times over and solve everyone’s problems everywhere, and still find the time to coo over _‘how cute that chocobo chick over there is!’”_

More laughter, and Rahela leaned her cheek into her hand.

“But, that only adds to how amazing she is. She always endeavors to lift the spirits of others; even when the cost is her own dignity. And I promised that I would tell one particular instance of this: one that occurred a short time before we were all brought to Norvrandt…”

Oh gods, here it was…

“So, first and foremost, some context: Rahela and I can breathe underwater. It’s a long story that would make this speech last all night, but the point is that we were granted a blessing that would let us breathe in any body of water. Thancred and Alphinaud were both abroad on their own missions, for reasons that are also a long story; the most pertinent thing is that the two of us were sitting in our headquarters, miserable and anxious for our loved ones. Then, all of a sudden, Rahela had an idea. She rummaged around in the pantry and icebox for a time, retrieved a large number of bowls, and an equal amount of various liquids, including but not limited to: milk, soup broth, several alcoholic beverages, and even cooking oil.”

“She then filled aforementioned bowls with aforementioned liquids, and had someone acquire a roll of parchment and something to write with. When I finally managed to ask _what in the name of sanity are you doing_ , Rahela told me that, to distract ourselves from how worried we are, we would test the limits of our blessing by seeing what _other_ types of liquid we could breathe in. By dunking our faces into said liquids and seeing if we could breathe. _In the name of science,_ she said.”

It was something that Rahela had been curious about for a long time beforehand; after finding that Kojin’s blessing allowed her to breathe in not only saltwater, but freshwater _and_ bath water, she had wanted to know, and spontaneously decided to use that particular moment of idleness to figure out the answer while also cheering up Alisaie at the same time… But now that she was hearing it described to a crowd of hundreds, hindsight was telling her that _maybe_ her idea wasn’t the soundest.

(In the audience, Rahela could see Qeshi-Rae grinning and nodding in approval at Rahela’s method of ‘scientific testing.’)

Alisaie continued, with a shite-eating grin, “I told Rahela that I would be content to simply write down the results of the test as she conducted it. And by the end of it, this legendary godslayer had nearly drowned herself a half-dozen-or-so times. But the most shocking part of all of that was that we actually had a _winner_ : Rah managed to be able to breathe in the bowl of _soup broth,_ of all things, though she also said it smelled rather meaty. And I told her, ‘ _Excellent. The next time an enemy tries to drown us in soup broth, they’ll be in for a nasty surprise.’”_

Even Ryne and Thancred chuckled along with the crowd at that. Her husband quipped, “You get up to the _strangest_ things when I’m gone.”

“Maybe Urianger should talk to those Kojin people when he gets back to your world,” Ryne said, amusement plain in her voice. “They’re no substitute for swimming lessons, but at least he won’t drown.”

“It’s no secret that Rahela’s got her fair share of quirks,” Alisaie said. “I’ve lost count of all the times she’s nuzzled me as if she really were a cat, fallen asleep on me while purring, gotten distracted by some yarn or a bug or a shiny light… But those quirks are part of what make her _her_. And I don’t doubt that Thancred knows that better than anyone. After all, they’ve got more in common than one might think…

A pause…

“…They’re both painfully obtuse, reckless, foolhardy dolts with minimal senses of self-preservation, if that.”

_Ouch…_

“They always put in too much of themselves into what they do; Rahela can’t say ‘no’ to save her life, and Thancred will insist upon his unimportance until his dying breath. That they’ve made it this far at all is nothing short of a miracle…”

_Double ouch…_

Alisaie’s expression then softened. “… Which means it’s a good thing they’ve got so many friends in their corner who’ll support and care for them, even when one--or both--of them is being an idiot. It’s been a difficult road to get here, but I know I speak for all the Scions when I say that we’ll do our damndest to make sure you live _a long, happy life._ And let’s hope we all make it there together… It’s the least I could do for my very best friend. My brave, incredible, heroic, ridiculous best friend.”

She raised her glass to mark the end of her speech, a warm smile reaching her eyes… Before, to her surprise, Rah’s arms wrapped around her shoulders in a tight hug, prompting scattered ‘awww’s from the applauding crowd. The red mage slowly flushed as she was nuzzled right after pointing out said nuzzling.

Urianger stood up, and the crowd slowly hushed in anticipation of his speech. He smoothed over his outfit and cleared his throat.

“I bid good evening to all of thee,” he said, projecting his voice across the Exedra, “As befitting my role as Best Man, I believe ‘tis mine duty to deliver unto this gathering an oration in honor of this night; a night which shall now and forever marketh the joyous union of Rahela and Thancred Waters.” He shot them a warm look and a smile. “They art, beyond any shadow of a doubt, my dearest friends,” he said, “Truly, it--”

His voice cracked mid-sentence, forcing him to pause and swallow; Rahela could have sworn she saw hints of tears already aching in his eyes. Fighting back the urge to run over and hug him, she let him go on.

“Truly… it doth beggar belief. Not only for the extraordinary circumstances which hath lead us all into this bond of kinship, but also for the humble beginnings which first drew us all together.”

Thancred’s eyes widened as he exhaled audibly, Rahela patting his shoulder with a smile.

“Nearly a lifetime ago, I attended school like any child would; after finishing meal time, I made ready to return to my classes, a textbook half mine own size cradled within mine arms. But in that moment, I noted a most peculiar noise. Imagine my surprise when, in a cursory search around the room, I discovered the source of the noise: a pair of legs hanging out of the mouth of a wastebin, twitching and kicking about, with sounds of frustration and various thumps and thuds audible from within. Mine younger self had correctly surmised that the legs belonged to an older student who had gotten stuck in the midst of ferreting through the others’ discarded, uneaten food. I was unaware at the time, but that happenstance did mark the first time I laid eyes on Thancred."

A quiet rumble of laughter from the crowd. Thancred groaned and leaned his face into his hand, futilely attempting to hide the deep red blush, while Rahela couldn’t stop herself from giggling a little bit. With a wry smile, Urianger went on:

“I did not help him.”

The laughter from the crowd grew louder, and Rah let out a little _‘awww’_ of sympathy.

Sharing in a chuckle of his own, Urianger elaborated. “It doth go without saying that since then, the bonds of camaraderie betwixt us hath much improved; indeed, I doth trust Thancred with my life. He and Rahela both are immeasurably dear to me, and they know—mayhap too well—that there are no lengths to which I would not go for their sakes.”

The tinge of regret in his voice was not lost on Thancred or Rahela, nor was the apologetic look he gave them. The two returned the look with gentle, encouraging smiles. His expression then softening, Urianger’s gaze moved back to the crowd.

“But, speaking of Rahela… The circumstances surrounding my first meeting with her wert a great deal more auspicious.”

Rahela’s ears perked up in surprise; she hadn’t expected that he would tell this story…

“Some surrounding details need not be explained, but some years ago, I had taken it upon myself to live the life of a wanderer. As I passed by a small village far to the south, mine eyes happened to fall upon a young girl a short distance away, carrying a stuffed moogle on her person: indeed, this was none other than Rahela, at a mere fifteen summers old. As a man on the move, I nearly passed the child by without a second glance; however, a group of her peers then approached, and began to harry and harangue the poor girl.”

She remembered that day; Rahela’s brief meeting with Urianger was a short time before the fall of Dalamud. The bullies’ excuse to harass her that day was the fact that she was carrying around a stuffed toy in public at fifteen, and that she still held onto the hope that the boy who’d given that moogle to her would return someday soon…

Urianger went on, “I’ll not assign myself any undeserved heroism, for I did what any other would do; I intervened and chased the ruffians away. After confirming her safety, I then sat and spoke with her for a time.”

Rahela smiled fondly at the memory of the odd, hooded man who spoke strangely but was uncommonly kind to her and talked with her for what felt like hours. And Ryne’s eyes widened in recognition, recalling that Urianger had comforted her in a remarkably similar way during their brief stay in Twine…

“Only a few moments with young Rahela were required for her to secure a place in my heart. She was…” Urianger’s voice wavered again, and he leaned his head back and took a deep breath to keep his composure intact. “… She was, even then, a spirited, hopeful young woman; one whom I knew would accomplish great things in her future. But I could have ever conceived what a severe understatement such a thought would prove to be.”

He and the bride shared a look.

“Imagine mine amazement, then, when I saw her again, as she joined our order five summers later; now a woman grown, ready and eager to further our cause to better the world,” Urianger said, beaming with pride, before giving the groom a knowing glance. “Though I am certain now my aforementioned elation surely must have paled in comparison to that of Thancred’s.”

Another bout of warm laughter.

“Prior to her arrival, Thancred had spoken of the young adventurer in the most glowing and laudatory of terms. I must admit, however, that at the time I did fail to recognize this effusive praise as an early sign of what was to come between the two,” he said, “Thus did I worry that Thancred would fail to acknowledge or appreciate Rahela’s budding and blossoming affection for him…”

Thancred looked a ways off, rather sheepishly. But to his surprise, Urianger responded by making his way to where the groom sat, and placing a hand on his shoulder with a smile. His eyes were misty as he gently shook Thancred.

“How happy am I to have been wrong,” Urianger said, finally letting a tear run down his face, “The love between thee both is one I would wish all to find. Thou art my dearest friends, and words can ill express how truly happy I am to see thee wed. I wish thee unending years of love and joy.”

Thancred was visibly touched by the heartfelt speech, and so was the crowd; they began to clap while Urianger returned to his seat and subtly dabbed at his face with a napkin. Y’shtola patted him on the shoulder while all eyes fell upon the Man of Honor who would deliver the final speech…

With that, Alphinaud wasted little time; he stood up with glass in hand, cleared his throat, and…

“Fondest greetings to you all. To those who do not know me, I am Alphinaud Leveilleur: Artist, Academician, and the Man of Honor. I would like to begin this speech with a confession… I nearly prevented Rahela and Thancred’s relationship from ever beginning.”

With that single opening sentence, Alphinaud captured the attention of the entire reception, including that of those few who already knew this story.

“In the past, suffice it to say that I suffered from a _dreadfully_ inflated ego; as such, I was prone to speaking matter-of-factly, but without regard for others’ feelings. This, Rahela knows all too well; for I once exposited to her about a woman named F’lhaminn--a famed songstress and the adoptive mother of a dear friend--who had been missing and presumed dead for five years. And in doing so, I casually mentioned that Thancred had been in love with her.”

Rahela could feel everyone collectively wince, and Alphinaud continued: "I had no idea at the time why Rahela seemed so crestfallen to hear this; for she had elected not to tell me that _she_ had been harboring romantic feelings for Thancred for quite some time prior to this. And upon my breezily telling her that he had already loved and lost another woman, she seemed to lose all hope of her feelings ever being requited." Gesturing to the newlyweds, he quipped, "Obviously, that was not the case."

A pause to allow for a short chorus of chuckles from the crowd, and the speech continued: "Fortunately, a short time after that incident was when Thancred professed his own feelings for Rahela, and the two wasted no time in beginning a relationship. But I would not learn of any of this for quite a while; either because they consciously chose not to tell me, or because I was simply too stuck in my own head to notice. In my eyes, they were simply close colleagues, and their love blossomed, free from my pedantic interference. At least…" Alphinaud's face fell. "… Not until my own hubris caused a chain reaction that nearly split the two apart forever. It wasn’t until I woke up to the sound of her bitterly weeping in her sleep, and calling out for him in her dreams, that the truth had hit me; it was not merely a comrade or a dear friend from whom she had been separated that terrible night, but a lover. To this day, I'm still amazed that she could even stand to look at me, after all she’s endured."

Looking down, she remembered: as lost to heartbreak as she was after the Bloody Banquet, she almost _didn't_ forgive Alphinaud for his part in what led to it. A long talk with Haurchefant was what it took to get her to see that the true fault had lain with those who exploited the boy's sincere intentions of helping the realm. And even if that talk hadn't happened, Alphinaud was one of the few people she'd had left in the world after that night, and she could never bring herself to truly end her friendship with him…

"But, happily, that separation proved to have only been temporary. And though their road together leading up to now has had more than its fair share of hardship, though tragedy had placed strain on their love, though they'd be separated by seas and continents and even time and space itself, Rahela and Thancred have held true to each other. And if I know them, they shall continue to do so for the rest of their lives."

Alphinaud looked back down to the both of them, beaming with pride. "But know, that you need not only lean on each other; for we are, and shall always be, family. In fact, save for my dear sister, I feel a deeper bond to this chosen family of ours than my own blood relations. And though the road yet to come may be uncertain, I have yet to bear witness to a struggle that could not be overcome by you, or us.”

He raised his glass. “So tonight, we toast your bond; if it could survive even my past, idiotic self, then it could survive anything! As you both have ever and always been paragons of courage, strength, and perseverance, I believe I speak for all my fellow Scions when I say that we, in turn, will support you in all that you do."

“So, in summation…" He leaned down and hugged Rahela, tight around the shoulders. The crowd took that as their sign to cheer and applaud the heartfelt speech. The last of the speech, however, was for the bride's ears only, as he whispered: "… We love you, Rah. Congratulations."

With a little squee, she returned the hug with happy tears once again in her eyes.

They remained like that for a time, until Alphinaud stood back up and announced to the crowd, “Now, I do believe we’ve kept you all from the food for long enough! Let us eat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up stretching RIDICULOUSLY long so I’m breaking it up again. Hopefully I’m not tempting fate by having this fic be 13 chapters… (LAUGHS NERVOUSLY IN 5.3…………)


	13. The Reception (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dances are had, quality time is spent together, and the Waters family begins a new life together…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … So if anyone is interested, I made a rudimentary playlist for the whole wedding, from ceremony to reception:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9N7fqPqaGEH-p8CLGoDjxZA6cxr7DrRa

As expected of the expert chefs at the Second Serving, dinner was excellent. After fasting all day in preparation for it, Rahela was more than ready to devour the meal in a manner that was just barely befitting of a bride, and she loved every bite. And once she finished eating herself stupid, she glanced around the tables to observe everyone else…

Lyna kept her eye on the Exarch as he ate his salmon filet. “Lyna, really, that was just _one time,”_ G’raha promised her. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, two times, but I’m paying attention now, please stop fussing and enjoy your meal!”

Meanwhile, a porxie fluttered over from the general direction of Beq Lugg and settled on Alisaie’s shoulder, sniffing curiously at her fork, and then in her ear, until she had to shoo it away.

Over at the long table on the side that served as a bar, Ronitt and Giott (the former seeming not to care that the latter wasn’t wearing a mask) were both pestering Glynard, presumably wanting more drinks, but the Galdjent wasn’t budging in the slightest.

Cyella sat at that same bar, but paid no attention to the commotion; she simply stared into the night sky, eyes full of contemplation and reminiscence.

… But Rahela’s people-watching was soon obscured; once more and more people started finishing their dinner, they began getting up and walking about. And many of them ended up gravitating towards the Scions’ table, talking not just to her, but to Thancred and Alphinaud and Y’shtola and Alisaie and Urianger and everyone and there was _just so much talking she couldn’t hear herself think…_

\--And then she felt a familiar tiny poke on her arm. Ryne was staring up at her, her eyes wide with concern. Rahela could hear her voice saying _something,_ but with all the loud talking in such close proximity, she couldn’t even make out what her daughter was saying.

“I can’t hear you,” Rah said, folding her ears down. “Too much talking at once…”

Immediately understanding, Ryne stood up and tapped Thancred on the shoulder to break him out of his conversation with Magnus. Quickly seeing that his wife was suddenly looking uncomfortable, he excused himself, and all three headed back for the stairs of the Dossal Gate, and climbed up until the noise of the chattering crowd was a little more quiet to their ears.

“Thanks, you two,” Rah signed as she sat down with Thancred and Ryne on either side of her. “You’re the best…”

“Needed another break?” Thancred asked simply, lightly scritching her between her ears.

“Mmm,” she made a noise of confirmation, relaxing into his hand. “I’m fine, nobody upset me. Just felt a bit overstimulated…”

“I know how you feel,” Ryne said, hugging Rahela from the side. “As much as I love seeing everyone having fun and being so happy, it can be overwhelming, too.”

“Yeah…?”

“That happened to me the first time I came to the Crystarium. It sounds a bit silly now that I know them so well, but suddenly being swarmed with more people than I’d ever been around in my whole life, all of them talking and excited and happy to see me… Thancred tried as best he could to prepare me for it, but.”

Ryne drew her lips into a thin line as if embarrassed by a memory, at which point Thancred finished, “She was so overwhelmed that she hid under my coat and cried into my leg.”

“Thancreeed…” Ryne pouted, before sighing. “Well, looking back on it now, I don’t blame them at all; they were excited to see that the Oracle of Light had finally been freed from Eulmore. It was just that all of it at once was too much, too fast. But once you have a moment to clear your head, the feeling passes and eventually you’re ready to head back in.”

“Mm,” Rah nodded, putting her arm around Ryne’s shoulders. “Feo gave me some really good advice a while ago, about staying still, taking a moment to breathe, keeping my mind on the present instead of where I need to go… One of these days I really should start taking that advice.”

… But she did just that. Her, Thancred, and Ryne, sitting together, a comfortable distance away from the crowd; close enough to hear the chatter and music, but far enough above to not have it surrounding them. Watching Feo Ul and the other pixies and porxies blissfully soaring overhead as tiny, shiny specks. Enjoying the cool breeze and the quiet, peaceful, clear beauty of their hard-won night sky.

Rahela wished she could preserve that moment forever. Put the memory inside a crystal, or a concept, or some other way…

_Not wanting the future, and wishing that the present could stay still, so she and the family she loved could all remain together…_

… Then, her eyes happened to spy Alphinaud a short distance away with an artist’s pencil and a small, pocket-sized sketchbook in his hands. He glanced up, saw that she was looking at him, and froze as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. Without saying a word, he turned the sketchbook around to show her what he’d been drawing: a drawing of Rahela, Thancred, and Ryne sitting together on the stairs, positioned exactly as they were now. A thumbnail of what he might eventually turn into a fully-fledged painting, presumably for them.

 _“Is this okay?”_ Alphinaud mouthed to her, pointing at the sketch. She smiled, both happy and amused that he somehow knew exactly what she wanted, as she was thinking about it, and nodded her approval. He smiled back, and returned to drawing. She hoped he would have time to finish it…

Shortly thereafter, G’raha then climbed the stairs to approach them. Ears perking up and sensing they were needed for something, Rahela asked, “What’s up?”

A bit apologetically, G’raha explained, “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I felt that I should let you know that the parent-child dances are scheduled soon. Thancred, have you come to a decision about your dance partner?”

For Vrandtic wedding receptions, it was a much-beloved tradition for the two newlyweds to dance with their mother, father, or some other parental figure. Rahela had easily decided on Feo Ul as her ‘parent,’ since they were already set to walk her down the aisle. But when asked the same question, Thancred went quiet and contemplative. He asked for some time to think about it, and it was given to him.

It went without saying that he had no living parental figures in the Source _or_ the First. However…

“Well. I had one idea; it’s not quite traditional, but it’s still _a_ parent-child dance.”

Immediately catching on, G’raha nodded, and smiled in approval. “Ahh, I see.”

Though they had talked about it beforehand and she agreed to it, Thancred’s expression turned a bit sheepish as he faced Ryne. He stood back up and descended a few stairs so that he was at her eye level; at which point, he then cleared his throat and held his hand out for her to take.

“So… How about it, Ryne? Would you like to dance?”

With a wide, delighted grin, Ryne happily took the offered hand in hers. “I’d love to!”

_“Not so fast, now!”_

Zipping down from the sky at top speed in their direction, Feo Ul gracefully swerved upright directly in front of Rahela, crossing their arms and looking distinctly displeased.

They declared to all four present, “The bride always dances first! A good husband puts his wife first in all things, and that includes letting her dance with her beautiful branch!”

“But I wasn’t—” Thancred cut himself off, and sighed. “Very well, Your Majesty may have the next dance.”

“Sorry, Feo Ul, we got a little ahead of ourselves,” Ryne added. “We’ll wait our turn.”

Handing their staff to G’raha, (who looked a bit surprised to suddenly find himself carrying two staffs) the Fae King then turned their attention to Rahela; smiling serenely and holding out their hand to her.

“Shall we, dearest _snae ac…?”_

Rah let out a soft little chuckle before smiling warmly. “Of course, my _iz nefis.”_

Hand-in-hand, the sapling and the branch all but glided through the courtyard to the center of the dance floor; the two stared at each other for a long moment. Titania practically glowed in the dark, their whole being enveloped in purest radiance, grace, and twinkling motes of light. Then, they took both of Rahela’s hands in theirs, as opposed to the embrace of her dance with Thancred.

She thought it meet to ask, “Is there anything I need to know about pixie dances…?”

“Nay, darling, not a thing,” Feo said, shaking their head. “A pixie’s dance is fierce and free, like the leaves on the boughs.”

A new song began playing; a slow piano, accompanied by the sound of a merrily rising and falling harp.

Feo Ul began simply, swaying from side to side and swinging their arms and Rahela’s, both in time with the music. Soon, Feo lifted ever so slightly off the ground and floated in a circle around Rah in order to twirl her. She stumbled slightly, but as she realized that the motions vaguely reminded her of a Gridanian harvest dance, her steps soon became lighter, more breezy, and now keeping up with the pixie. She twirled on her tiptoes with her branch, losing herself in the movements.

And perhaps even better than Rahela figuring out the trick to this pixie dance, was Feo Ul’s own delight for their dear sapling getting it.

Rahela had encountered so many kind individuals throughout her journeys that had become parental figures to her; Cid, Momodi, F’lhaminn, Novv, Edmont, the Chais… But Feo Ul was so markedly different from them. And not in a bad way. They filled some emotional need that she couldn’t quite describe; was it the unconditional acceptance, care, and adoration from a completely different, much more long-lived being than her? Rah didn’t know how to put it into words… but maybe she didn’t need to.

Feo was Feo, and they loved her. Simple as that. 

The dance became a playful romp, looping and leaping with her dear Titania; she almost didn’t notice when the song had faded out, signaling the end.

Rahela flushed, and gave Feo Ul an apologetic look. “Sorry, Feo… That was really fun.”

“It was so much fun that you’re sorry that our dance had to stop?” The pixie asked, and then giggled. “Silly sapling, you make it seem like this is the end! No, we can dance again whenever you please!”

Just as Rahela realized that, _yes, they were right,_ Feo Ul leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, gently whispering…

“Even when you’re not thinking about me, I’m always with you, my precious flower…”

Rahela hugged them tight, slow-blinking and sighing in contentment.

Returning to Thancred and Ryne at the stairs as Feo Ul happily went back to scattering little colorful lights over the Exedra, Rahela said, “Okay, _now_ it’s your turn.”

Both taking a long, deep breath, father and daughter rose to their feet and looked at each other. 

“You ready, Ryne?” Thancred asked, offering his hand again.

And Ryne took it again, nodding. “Of course.”

In their smiles, no trace remained of the wide, aching gap that had pained the two before. Ryne led the way onto the courtyard, and turned around to face Thancred once they reached the center.

A short silence, one more reaffirming smile, and…

The next song began, a favorite of Ryne’s: one that started with just a warm, slow piano at the beginning before it was joined by a soft flute and strings.

Her small hand clasped in his, they danced, both of them exceptionally light on their feet. Their movements had an easy airiness to them, but a tenderness, too… Even though he knew that she wasn’t the same delicate girl he rescued that day, he was so careful with her, twirling her hand over head, and supporting her in every movement. Just like how he wasn’t the man who closed himself off in grief, anymore; who thought himself unworthy of regard or consideration, hers least of all, until he turned distant and reticent…

But now…

Ryne grinned at him, as sweetly as the day he named her; his most precious of blessings…

Gently, Thancred touched his hand to the back of her head, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. 

He knew he didn’t really _need_ to say it…

“I love you, Ryne. And I’m sorry for not saying it more.”

… But he said it anyway.

And she returned the hug, leaning into him with a contented little sigh. “I love you too, Thancred. And don’t worry; we’re not saying goodbye just yet.”

His grip wavered, but then tightened. “Right…”

Their dance went on, slower than before, until finally, the song came to a stop with one last high piano note. And when they separated from their hug, Rahela could see a hint of mistiness in Thancred’s eyes…

As soon as her husband and daughter had returned to within arms’ reach of her, she was hugging both of them tight.

“I’m fine, Dove, I promise,” Thancred soothed, returning the hug nonetheless. “Just a bit sentimental.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” Ryne said, now regretting that she’d said anything about the impending departure of the Scions.

“No, no, don’t apologize…” Rah told them both. “Actually, I was thinking about something…”

They both gave her an inquiring look.

“Tonight, after the party’s over, let’s head over to Clearmelt and spend the night there. And we can just take all of tomorrow to relax and have fun in the hot springs until Thancred has to leave… Just the three of us!”

Receiving nothing but stares for a long moment, Rahela worried that she’d said something wrong, until Thancred put his hands on his hips and sighed through his nose.

“Rah. Dove. What you just described is literally just a honeymoon. Something that nearly every newly-wedded couple does. Both here, and on the Source.”

Her ears folded down as she remembered. “… Oh. I forgot those were a thing. I guess with all the planning and preparing I must be more tired than I thought…”

“I’ll say you are,” Thancred commented, nudging Rahela to move forward in the general direction of the long table. “Come on, let’s get you back to your seat.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“But,” Ryne asked, following next to them, “I thought the honeymoon was supposed to be only for you two; you want me to come along, too…?”

“Of course we want you along,” Thancred said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And then, with a smile: “One more day with us as a family.”

None of them could argue with that.

The reception went on, a few more songs played, more people danced to them, and the others dispersed in order to mingle. Y’shtola got up and headed in the general direction of Runar, Alphinaud thought to take this chance to catch up with Kai-Shirr, and Ryne said that she wanted to go talk to Gaia since she hadn’t had the chance to do so yet.

Alisaie got up to walk around, and made it a short way before she spotted a hume girl with long, straight blonde hair nervously approaching her. Rahela was too far away to hear their conversation, but Alisaie squinted at the girl as if trying to recognize her; then the hume explained something, and then gestured to her necklace. At that point Alisaie’s eyes widened in realization and she sprang to her feet, talking excitedly with the other girl. Mere moments later, Alisaie tucked one arm behind her back and bowed to the blushing girl as if they were prince and princess, and proceeded to make their way to the dance floor together.

Eventually, it was just Rahela, Thancred, and Urianger left at the table, when suddenly, just in earshot…

“There you are!” Ryne’s voice called out in delight. “I’m so glad you made it!”

“Well, even if I _didn’t_ want to come, I would still be stuck hearing this party all the way from my apartment. But I wasn’t about to turn down the promise of cake, so, here I am.” _There_ was the unmistakably curt voice of a certain dark-haired Oracle. Rah, Thancred, and Urianger all turned around to see Gaia engaged in conversation with Ryne. She squinted at the pair, tilting her ears forward to listen to them better…

“Sooo…” Ryne continued making conversation, an adorable grin lighting up her face. “How did you like the ceremony?”

Putting her weight on one leg, and swirling a drink around in her glass, Gaia remarked, “A bit too shiny for my liking, but you looked like you were having fun. So… Not the worst wedding I’ve ever been to. Six out of ten. If I like the cake then I’ll bump it up to a seven.”

… Coming from Gaia, that rating was higher than Rahela expected. (Though she wasn’t expecting to have her wedding _‘rated’_ in the first place…) Maybe she could make it through the evening without wanting to throw something at the snippy young Oracle…

“But you know,” Gaia went on, “When Thancred paused just before the ‘I do’s, I was completely expecting him to make this big outburst about how he couldn’t live a lie anymore, and announce to the entire venue that he’s been gay for the Best Man this entire time.”

… Never mind. Fire aether gathering in Rahela’s clenched fists caused her gloves to quite literally start smoking; she felt her tail puffing up again and it took all her effort to stay seated and not start a fight. Meanwhile, Thancred and Urianger grimaced at each other, and scooted their seats further apart.

Ryne, however, laughed it off. “Thancred and Urianger? No, I don’t think so; Urianger’s more like how I imagine a _grand_ father. 

Urianger made a short, strangled noise like a man who’d been shot with a well-aimed arrow. He choked out in disbelief, presumably directed towards an unsubtly snickering Thancred, “But, I… I am _younger than thee…”_

Oblivious to their talking, Gaia conceded: “Fair point. Urianger certainly _talks_ like he’s a grandfather. If grandfathers could live to be five-hundred years old.”

Urianger sighed and hung his head, and Rahela reached across the table to give him a comforting little pat.

Then, Ryne let out a little gasp, and pointed upwards in excitement. “Ooh! Gaia, look! A shooting star!”

Customarily unimpressed, Gaia asked, “What about it?”

“I, erm…” Ryne’s enthusiasm then deflated at Gaia’s lack thereof. “Just wanted to point it out…”

“Are you just imitating something you read in some book? Or something you saw your parents doing?”

Ryne flushed pink; Gaia took her hesitance as a ‘yes.’ For a mercy, she only sighed with an exasperated shake of her head, and didn’t actually say anything.

An awkward silence ensued, one only compounded by the fact that Noddy was currently between songs. But the next one began with a sudden, loud flourish from several string instruments at once, enough to startle them both, before settling into a waltz.

After an agonizing half-minute of fidgeting, Ryne worked up the nerve to make another attempt at small talk. “Y-you know, this song… It sounds a lot like the one they played during the dance at the beginning. Just… arranged into a waltz.” 

And her only response from Gaia was a flat “Whatever.”

Not giving up, Ryne went on, “I… think it’s pretty… And, erm…” 

“‘Erm,’ _what?_ Spit it _out,_ already.”

“Would you like to dance with me, Gaia…?”

 _“Pffft._ Me, dancing?” She scoffed and turned up her nose at the very idea. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Well, alright,” Ryne said, nodding and leaving it at that. Which greatly surprised Gaia.

“W-wait, that’s it? You’re not gonna try to convince me or anything?”

“This isn’t the same as going out to eat coffee biscuits together, or just me wanting to be your friend; if you don’t want to dance in front of people, then I won’t try to force you.”

“I--!” Gaia stuttered, suddenly looking a bit confused, almost disappointed--as though she had expected, or even _wanted_ Ryne to try to convince her to dance. But not knowing what to do with that response, she pursed her lips, crossed her arms, and looked away. “… Thanks, I guess.”

… But Gaia soon found that her own not wanting to dance wouldn’t stop _Ryne_ from dancing on her own. The younger Oracle closed her eyes and enjoyed the music; at first only nodding her head in time with the melody, but that eventually evolved to her swaying in place and humming along…

And to Rahela, Thancred, and Urianger’s great surprise, as she started getting more and more into the music, _Gaia_ slowly started doing it, too. Soon enough, both of them were bobbing from side-to-side in unison with the waltz. The three adults of the Eden party gave each other a look, and shrugged. Whatever made them happy…

More songs and dances passed without incident, and slowly, but surely, the party was beginning to wind down. Or at least, that was how Rah felt, resting her head against Thancred’s shoulder as they continued their people-watching…

… And that was when Rahela spotted Y’shtola and Runar, still sitting together among the crowd, but not talking. And near them were Quinfort and Valan, also together but not talking.

The latter pair, she was less worried about; despite their occasional bickering over the veracity of Quinfort’s visions, it was plain that the two would be fine.

But the _former_ pair…

During the Scions’ most recent visit to Slitherbough, Runar had looked so excited to see them-- Y’shtola, especially--and insisted that the two miqo’te stay for a helping of his stew; but when mealtime actually came, he suddenly looked so crestfallen and sad. And he always looked at Y’shtola like he was desperate to say something, but always hesitating… A feeling that Rahela knew all too well…

… She got an idea.

Making her way to Noddy, still playing a slow dance, and gently tapped on its outer shell to get the node’s attention. Once acquiring that, she made a request for the next song, and quickly returned to her seat with a smile on her face.

Seeing that, Thancred quirked a brow and asked, “What’s that look for?”

“You’ll see in a minute,” Rah said, her grin growing wider. Immediately he realized she was up to something, but kept quiet. 

Once the current song ended, the one that the bride requested then began; a song from an orchestrion roll that she found in the Qitana Ravel. The song must have dated all the way back to ancient Ronka, by her best guess.

The heavy tribal drum beats quickly caught the attention of several wedding guests who had come from the Greatwood. Chaqurl Qhoterl excitedly gestured to his father, Phyna’s leporine ears stood up in surprise, and several of the Night’s Blessed seemed to recognize it. And just as Rah had hoped, the two pairs she’d had her eyes on--Y’shtola and Runar, and Quinfort and Valan--now got up from their seats and moved to the dance floor…

In what Rahela assumed to be a traditional dance of the Night’s Blessed, the two pairs bowed first. Then, they raised their hands and touched their wrists together, circling each other and keeping eye contact for a time… And then, they spun in place and switched hands, and repeated the motion in reverse. A simple dance, but a graceful one, where the dancers maintained eye contact throughout. 

And Runar kept looking at Y’shtola with those same shy, pining eyes. Then, right as he opened his mouth as if he were about to say something…

_“Scree!”_

A familiar noise reached Rahela’s ears and took her focus away from the dancing couples. She looked down, and was delighted to see a familiar little creature before her on the table: the Great Serpent of Ronka.

Her face lit up and she clasped her hands. “Oh! You made it after all!”

It answered with another _“Scree!”_ and a happy bounce.

Thancred, however, was completely lost. “What _is_ that thing? It _looks_ like a snake, but I didn’t think snakes could be so… _spherical…”_

The great serpent, however, ignored his comment, instead focusing its beady black eyes on Rahela, gazing at her with what seemed like affection. And she returned it by giving the tsuchinoko a little scritch on its head.

That gesture seemed to be enough for the serpent; it hopped away from Rahela, towards the front of the table. It bowed its head for a long moment, and all went quiet…

… And then, the serpent stood on its tail and let out a long, high-pitched call:

_“SCREEEEE!”_

For a few moments, nothing happened. But then, another _‘scree’_ answered the first, and out hopped another great serpent; this one wearing what was, perhaps, the world’s smallest bowtie. A third Serpent followed suit, this one wearing a… suit. 

More and more Serpents appeared with various distinguishing adornments; one wore a tiny flower on its head, another with a bit of white cloth around the back of its head to resemble a wedding veil, another wearing a ring like a crown… They just kept coming until the dance floor was completely flooded with Great Serpents of Ronka, all of them _‘scree’_ -ing.

Valan yelped in the shock of seeing so many, and tried to leave, but everywhere he looked, he couldn’t find anywhere to put his feet besides where they already were. Quinfort, meanwhile, had gone far, far beyond ecstatic at the sight and had possibly reached a transcendent state of joy. 

“Ahahahahahaaaa!” Quinfort cackled madly, “O great one, we are, all of us, humbled by your presence here this night! That you have arrived in such numbers must serve as proof of your magnanimousness towards these two allies of Ronka!”

The fact that there were so many definitely seemed to be a sign of _something._ The countless serpents then gathered together into one mass on the ground, until they formed…

“… A heart?”

Quinfort watched the mass of serpents carefully. “A heart to signify your love…”

And then, they all filed into a long line and moved in unison, as if they were one, long serpent. The serpents moved expertly in formation, the line bending and curving into…

“And the symbol for infinity!” Quinfort declared. “The great serpent has de- _screed_ that your love shall last for all of eternity!”

The serpents _‘SCREE’_ -ed together and all began to slither in the infinity shape, faster and faster, seeming to blend together into one single, massive serpent, until…

They all vanished, gone in a flash.

Chaqurl and Quinfort cheered uproariously, while literally everyone else was stunned into silence.

“Dammit…” Alisaie hung her head, as if ashamed of herself. “I was so sure we had prepared for snake invasions…”

Similarly dumbfounded, Thancred finally managed to ask what everyone else was thinking: “What in the _hells_ just happened…?”

“The Great Serpent of Ronka has blessed your union,” Y’shtola said, the amusement plain in her voice. “The two of you should be most honored.”

Hearing that, Quinfort and Valan’s jaws both dropped in two very different forms of shock. The former then grinned and silently pumped his fists, while the latter groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Ears perking up in surprise, Rahela asked the question burning in the two young Blesseds’ minds: “You believe in the great serpent, Y’shtola?”

“Of course,” She replied, most matter-of-factly. “I’ve extensively studied the Fruit of the Protector, and the ancient Ronkans’ worship of the once-wrathful serpent sealed therein is well-documented. And just tonight, I’ve been informed of a stelae in the Qitari settlement that shows documentation of a similar creature aiding the peoples in discovering the cure for a dreadful ailment. Twould be most remiss of me as a scholar to wholly dismiss the possibility that these legends have basis in reality.”

Valan could only sigh. “I give up…”

Y’shtola then added, with a wry grin, “And that you’ve entered the good graces of such an entity is wholly unsurprising--in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve always excelled at making friends.”

Rah felt herself blushing, and she scratched the back of her neck with a smile. “Aww, Shtola…”

\--And she got a finger authoritatively thrust at her face, as Y’shtola added, “Which is why I say again: _the two of you should be most honored._ And you should very much give thanks to this entity yourselves, and not have Quinfort do it for you.”

She gestured back to the young Drahn, who was fervently praying a short distance away:

“I thank you, O great one, for answering my prayers and blessing the marriage of my good friend Rahela…” Quinfort waved the couple over, insistently hissing, “Rahela, Master Thancred, you need to give thanks, too!”

“Ah, right.” Clasping her hands together as if praying, Rahela said, completely in earnest with reverence in her voice: “Thank you, Great Serpent of Ronka…”

“Erm…” Thancred looked upwards, his expression still somewhat dubious, but he concurred: “I’m still _slightly_ lost, but. Thank you, Great Serpent of Ronka.”

Valan stood by, watching this, muttering, “By the abyss… I just wanted to have a fun night of dancing with my boyfriend, and all I get is more weirdness…”

Giving him a sympathetic shrugging of her shoulders, Rah said, “Sorry, Valan…”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault,” the hume boy sighed for the umpteenth time that evening, a defeated smile forming on his face. “I guess it’s just a part of being with him…”

A slightly dreamy expression crossed Quinfort’s face. “Oh, Valan… A bond blessed by the great one must be a beautiful thing. I can only hope it’s the same for us, one day…”

This time, when Valan rolled his eyes, it was with fondness. “Well… I doubt the serpent would turn its back on its most devoted follower. If it did, I might end up actually having a problem with it.”

Y’shtola pondered aloud, “But why did the great serpent pick choose that specific moment to appear? Was it the song that dated back to ancient Ronka, perhaps…?” She went quiet, before blinking and turning back to her Ronso companion. “But do forgive me, Runar; you looked as though you were about to say something before all the excitement started.”

“Ah… No, it was nothing important. I was only going to say…” Runar looked down, plainly embarrassed, before smiling at her. “I enjoyed dancing with you. And that I look forward to your return to Slitherbough…”

Y’shtola stared at him for a moment longer, as if she expected him to say more, but then warmly returned the smile. “Agreed on both counts, my friend. I promise I’ll not keep you and the other Blessed waiting overlong.”

As Rahela, Thancred, and Quinfort all gave their thanks, she could have sworn she heard a faint and familiar _“Scree…!”_ in the distant sky…

  
  
  


It took a great deal of explanation and apologies to the guests, but the confusion that resulted from the sudden appearance and disappearance of the Great Serpents eventually abated. But with that excitement calming down, Rahela realized that the hour was growing late. And she knew what that meant…

_Cake time…_

Indeed, before long a staff member of the Second Serving relayed the order to bring out what everyone (or at least the sweet-toothed) had been waiting for. A loud, happy holler came from Jeryk somewhere in the crowd as a Talos slowly and purposefully came pushing a hand trolley into the courtyard. And atop that trolley was the long-awaited, gigantic, four-tiered silver and purple wedding cake, with miniature replicas of Rahela and Thancred’s weapons as toppers.

_It was beautiful, and everything she was hoping for._

A tapping on her shoulder snapped her out of her reverie; Thancred was giving her a knowing look. “I do believe that _this_ is what you’ve been looking forward to the most, my bride.”

 _“Second_ -most,” Rahela corrected. “Shocking as it may seem, I do love you _slightly_ more than cake.”

“Then me feeding you cake is just the dream of a lifetime, isn’t it?”

Nuzzling up to him, Rah admitted, “Pretty much!”

The Scions, the bridesmaids, groomsmen, and the officiant all gathered at the long center table, where the Talos had stopped; the servers handled the cake with the utmost of care as they lifted it from the trolley to the table. This was followed by them _very carefully_ unstacking the tiers, laying down several small plates and cutlery for the individual slices, and finally presenting the newlyweds with a cake-cutting knife.

Standing together, Rahela picked up the knife, and Thancred put his hand over hers, guiding it carefully as they slowly sliced through the layers of cake and buttercream, until they’d cut seven slices from the vanilla tier and gotten each one of them onto a plate.

“The bride and groom have cut the cake,” G’raha announced, “and I do believe the first slice is theirs.”

Rahela thought she was prepared for how the cake might taste as Thancred took a forkful of cake and gingerly lifted it to her lips. But the very moment it touched her tongue…!

As delicious as a preview that the scraps had been, nothing possibly could have compared to this--moist and pillowy-soft, with light, sugary frosting… Heavenly sweetness like nothing she’d ever known…

“… Rah? Hello? Can you hear me?”

… And when she reopened her eyes, it was to Thancred snapping in her ear to bring her out of her cake-induced trance; everyone else was already eating.

“Oh…”

He let out a little breath of a chuckle. “Heh. That good, is it?”

“It is!” Ryne concurred, her mouth full of cake.

“Well,” Thancred said, raising his eyebrows. “I shall have to taste it for myself, then.”

Taking the same fork that had just been in Rahela’s mouth, he took his own forkful of cake and ate some. (Why was she embarrassed at an indirect kiss, they had already _directly_ kissed several times that night…) And a smile of approval crossed his face.

“It _is_ delicious; definitely worth the wait.”

After finishing their shared slice, the newlyweds began their dessert in earnest, and found their energy for mingling with the guests renewed. In fact, as soon as they got up to talk some more…

“Rahela!”

Looking around for the source of the voice that called for her, Rahela spotted a familiar, blue-haired Mystel waving to her.

Immediately recognizing him, she called back, with a wave of her own, “Lue-Reeq!”

“I must say, old friend, that feast was magnificent!” the former hunter declared, spreading his arms wide as he approached. “I would go so far as to say it puts any meals that I treated you to to utter shame!”

“Don’t thank me for that; all credit goes to the Second Serving! And how did Miss Olvara like it?”

Reeq answered with a smile. “She loved it; undoubtedly the best meal she’s had in years.”

Rahela nodded, and said, “I’m so glad that you were both able to make it. I was a bit worried…”

“Not to worry! She’s not so old that airship travel is too much for her. And…” Lue-Reeq’s expression changed to one of melancholy. “It did her good to hear Renda-Rae’s voice. She thanked the both of us, for keeping her story alive…”

“Mm. I heard her, too; she didn’t exactly leave the best impression on my friends and I—Alisaie, especially—during her brief time in our world, so she apologized for everything she did there.”

“But, that reminds me…” His expression changed again; this time he went from bittersweet to deathly serious. He drew close and whispered into Rah’s ear: “I have information on the Warrior of Light, if you were planning on going looking for him.”

Ears flicking in realization, Rahela responded, “—Oh, h-hold on, Thancred should be here, too; he’s the one who volunteered to go looking…”

Within a minute, Rah had managed to find her husband in the crowd and literally pull him (by the arm) into their discussion. “Hey, lovey, this is Lue-Reeq; he’s from Eulmore, but he’s one of my old Virtue Hunter friends, and he says he knows something about where ‘Ardbert’ went…”

“Ahh… “ Understanding immediately, Thancred nodded. “Yes, unfortunately we couldn’t get any invitations to our friends who are more on the move; ‘tis a shame that Theyler, Vonard, and Ardbert had to miss this…”

Leaning in close again, Reeq explained, “I can’t say anything about the other new ‘Warriors of Light,’ but last I heard, Ardbert was making for Eulmore. So if you need help tracking him down, just say the word, eh?”

“I see…” Thancred went quiet for a moment, and said, “Well. I’ll be spending tonight and most of tomorrow at Clearmelt with my family. But we agreed that tomorrow night would be when I left to start the search. Will you be returned to Eulmore by then?”

“Yes! We can meet up and talk more there.”

Thancred crossed his arms. “Then I suppose I’ll be starting my search in Kholusia.”

“Excellent! So begins the partnership of Thancred and Reeq!” A beat of silence, before the young Mystel’s excitement deflated. “... No, that doesn’t have the same ring to it as ‘Rahela and Reeq’...”

Thancred and Lue-Reeq agreed to meet up in Gatetown the following night, and start the search for Elidibus there. But as soon as that discussion was over, Y’shtola approached them next.

Taking one look at her face filled with new resolution, Thancred immediately guessed what she was about to say: “I take it that the time has come for you to return to the depths?”

Bittersweetly, Y’shtola shrugged and said, “Yes; as much as I appreciated this respite and the time spent with you all, all good things must come to an end. I must resume my research so that we might better prepare for the trials ahead.”

_All good things must come to an end…_

Folding her ears down but managing to feign a smile, Rahela sighed, “Okay… Be safe, Shtola.”

… And then gave Y’shtola a hug.

Patting the emotional bride on the back, Y’shtola reassured, “Not to worry; with any luck, I shan't be gone long. In fact, it’s very much likely that my time away from work will allow me to discern something that I missed before. ‘Tis an unspoken rule of academia, and one that I should adhere to more often…”

Several more conversations followed that pattern; people thanking the couple for the wedding and wishing them the best before saying they had to leave and return home. Dulia-Chai gave Rahela another hug and kiss; Magnus gave Thancred a pat on the back and reminded him to treasure his time with his family; Giott and Ronitt merrily stumbled past them arm-in-arm, drunkenly singing congratulatory Dwarven songs; Phyna and Lamlyn lamented that neither of them had managed to work up the courage to ask Lyna for a dance; even Gaia reluctantly _(very_ reluctantly) admitting that she had a good time, and was even looking forward to the next expedition into the Empty. 

Spying something red in her periphery, Rah noticed now that G’raha was approaching the two; smiling as warmly as ever.

“Thank you, Rahela,” he said, slow-blinking and patting her on the shoulder. “I truly believe it did all of us good to come together and celebrate at a time like this.”

Folding her ears down, she asked, “You’re going, too, G’raha…?”

“I’m afraid so,” he nodded, albeit sadly. “I can’t delay my work on the vessel a moment longer. After all, you and Thancred can’t be _truly_ joined in body and soul until he’s returned to his body.”

“--Oh…” It was so easy to forget; but he was right. Thancred looked down and closed his eyes with a deep frown, and Rahela sagged her shoulders. “I… Suppose so. I’m sorry for delaying your work for this.”

“No, no, don’t worry; I wouldn’t trade away a day like this for anything. And besides--as Y’shtola said, perhaps this break will allow me to return to work with a clearer mind and I’ll suddenly have a breakthrough…”

“You can do it!” Rah encouraged him, pounding her fist into her palm.

“Thank you, my friend. But I wanted to reiterate my gratitude that you let me take part in this. And I enjoyed the stories most of all; truly, they were priceless.” And seeing the pout that crossed Rahela’s face at that, he quickly clarified, “Mind you, I don’t say that to make fun! To put it simply, well… For all the history books and memoirs there are about your exploits and adventures, there are all too few that adequately capture all the smaller, but no less important details. Your more light-hearted exploits, your day-to-day concerns, how you and your loved ones felt as everything happened… Those little things are so often lost in the retellings over the years, but I’m glad to know of them now.”

“I’ve got plenty more stories like that, if you want to hear them.”

“Not now, I’m afraid; Beq Lugg, Urianger, and I must return to work. But perhaps once things have finally calmed down, we can sit together and tell stories like we used to, once upon a time.”

Just as G’raha was about to turn away, Rahela threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. As tightly as she could.

Hesitantly, she asked, “That’s a promise, right…?”

She felt him sighing, and he hugged her back, their heads nuzzling together.

“Of course, my friend.”

And as he climbed up the stairs to the Crystal Tower with Beq Lugg and Urianger in tow, G’raha looked back to give Rahela one more smile before he passed through the grandiose doors.

… Rahela tried not to think about how familiar that sight was.

As the Waters family gathered up, Alphinaud came running up to them; in the background, his sister seemed to be corralling the remaining guests into a single, condensed crowd. The Man of Honor asked, “Are you all about to leave?”

“Yes,” Thancred responded with a nod. “It’s almost midnight, so we thought we should be heading to Clearmelt…”

“We’re well aware of the time,” Alphinaud said, “But there’s one last thing Rahela needs to do before that!”

Canting her head, Rah asked, “And what’s that?”

He explained, “Customarily, at the very end of the reception, the bride tosses her wedding bouquet into the crowd, thereby passing on her good fortune on to whoever should catch it.”

“Oooh, that sounds fun, actually! Hold on, let me get it…”

Quickly fetching her bouquet of forget-me-nots from her table, Rah approached the crowd as they watched her in anticipation…

“Thank you all for coming!” She called out to them, “Thank you so, so much! The three of us all have to go and get some rest, but I would like to leave you all with this!”

With a _‘hup!’,_ Rahela threw the bouquet towards the crowd, watching as the streak of blue sailed overhead, over their outstretched hands. It arced, began to fall, before finally…

_“--Oi!”_

At the sound of that pained grunt, the small crowd turned in unison to see where the bouquet had landed; to the astonishment of all present, the wrapped bundle of forget-me-nots had in fact beaned _Grenoldt_ in the back of the head, with some of the blue blossoms having caught in his long, luxurious hair. And now it was in his hands, him having no idea what to do with it…

… At least, until he caught sight of Mowen.

A bit shyly, Grenoldt smiled and held the bouquet out to her. She responded by contemplatively looking at the flowers, and then the man offering them to her… And then smiling. Rahela wasn’t sure if that was a good smile or a bad smile.

… Well, hopefully things would turn out better for these two than they did for their counterparts on the Source.

With a sigh of relief, Alisaie took a long, deep breath, and let out a sigh. “That’s that, then.”

Alphinaud nodded. “Congratulations again, my friends.”

Smiling and making a little shoo-ing motion, Alisaie said, “Now go on, go enjoy your family honeymoon. Alphinaud and I are heading back to our apartment and sleep for a few days straight.”

  
  


Watching the twins make their departure along with everyone else, Rahela felt Thancred’s hand intertwine with hers. Looking up, there was that crooked smile she loved, a smile that reached those chocolate-brown eyes…

Tail happily wiggling under her dress, she asked, “Shall we?”

He nodded. “Indeed we shall.”

With minimal effort, Thancred scooped up Rahela and carried her in a single arm, while taking Ryne’s hand with his free one. Up the staircase they went, up from the Exedra and all the way to the Amaro Launch, where one was already waiting for them.

Carefully, he gripped her by the waist and set her down on the back of the amaro’s saddle; then he helped Ryne up onto Rah’s right-hand side. And finally, he himself climbed up and sat astride the front of the saddle, taking up the reins in his hands.

With a hint of teasing in his voice, Thancred asked, “Are we ready to go, Mistress Waters?”

“Eep…!” Rah squeaked and buried her face in her husband’s vest. Her reply was a muffled, “Ready…!”

“I thought so.” He looked over his shoulder to the smaller girl. “And you, Ryne? I seem to recall you having some trouble with heights…”

“I-I’ll be fine!” she said a bit too insistently, “I’m ready, too!”

“Alright, then; to Clearmelt. _Hyah!”_

At Thancred’s urging, the amaro lifted off and took to the sky, flying up, higher and higher, until the Crystarium shrank below their feet. Though Ryne had put on a brave face, the way she clung to her father’s back spoke volumes. But Rahela didn’t say anything, instead just hugged them both tighter as they glided over Lakeland…

… And over Laxan Loft. Looking down on the old Elven castle, Rah couldn’t help but remember… Though the circumstances had been dire, the fact remained that the battle there was the first time she, Thancred, and Ryne were all together in the same place… It felt as though it had been a lifetime ago, and yet she could remember it so clearly. And now…

She glanced down at her ring, then to her family, and smiled.

No matter how far she might go, no matter how much she might change, no matter how far apart the three might become…

She would never forget that day, or today, or any of this, for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops, i lied, there's also gonna be an epilogue


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It began and ended with a family sharing a meal.

In no time at all, the amaro landed in front of the Clearmelt Inn; as soon as they made it to their room, Rahela, Thancred, and Ryne finally felt their energy beginning to crash. It was all the newlyweds and their daughter could do to change out of their fancy clothes and into some robes provided by the Inn before they all collapsed onto their respective beds, too tired to do anything but sleep…

… And they did exactly that, well into the next morning. 

Thancred and Rahela woke up to each other’s faces for the first time as husband and wife. And finding themselves alone, they initiated a long, intimate ‘good morning’ kiss… At least until Ryne entered the room with a tray of food, having fetched their breakfast for them. An interruption, but a welcome one.

And so began the family’s day of much-needed respite.

They spent their morning talking and eating over their breakfast, and doing some stretches in the fresh air to relieve some of the soreness that came with all the activity of the previous day… 

In the afternoon, Thancred and Ryne both sat reading in the soft, green grass, while Rahela lay her head in her husband’s lap, watching puffy white clouds float through the blue skies and purring as her husband idly scritched her scalp.

And in the evening, they watched the sunset in peace and quiet, relaxing in the hot springs and listening to the birds of Lakeland. Rahela nuzzled against Thancred, and it occurred to her that the very moment the sun passed below the horizon, it would mark a full twenty-four hours since the wedding began…

And once she pointed that out to Thancred, he huffed out a small chuckle, and laid a little peck right on her temple.

A few more minutes of comfortable silence passed. None of them wanted to be the one to break it and say that they had to return. So, as he often did, Thancred had to be the bearer of bad news, standing up and informing Rahela and Ryne that it was time to go.

One short amaro ride later, the Waters family was back in the Crystarium. Thancred would see his wife and daughter back to the Pendants, they’d have a quick dinner in the Waters family apartment, and he’d leave for Eulmore, confer with Lue-Reeq, and search Kholusia to catch the trail of the false Ardbert.

As much as Rahela didn’t want him to leave, and as much as Ryne didn’t want him to leave, and as much as she knew  _ he _ didn’t want to leave either… they all knew that he had to.

But cooking their dinner with the orchestrion tuned to some soft, relaxing music…

Rahela picking out a bit of fuzz in Thancred’s hair as they worked…

Sharing a laugh over Thancred’s story about Ryne’s first, ill-fated attempt at cooking—a venison and wheat stew—and how she’s improved since then…

Sitting around the table, they acted like it was just another family dinner, and not the last one they might ever have together.

Once dinner was over, Thancred began to pack for his trip. Ryne charged the cartridges he would need. And Rahela gathered up, washed, and put away the dishes. The latter two shared a look of unease, but neither could bring themselves to say anything.

A short time after ducking behind a partition to change clothes, Thancred reemerged into view. He was back in his gunbreaker armor, and had taken Lionheart off of its rack on the wall; neither of them had seen any use since he returned from the last expedition into the Empty—since the night Rahela decided to have a wedding in Norvrandt.

His wedding ring was no longer on his finger, instead hanging on a thin chain around his neck that could easily and safely be tucked into his chestplate.

… Something about that really hammered home the reality of everything.

Ryne gave him the cartridges she’d charged; he thanked her, and loaded six of the red cylinders into his gunblade’s chamber, another eight hanging off the belt of his coat, while the rest of them went into his bag of other traveling supplies.

(All three silently hoped he wouldn’t have to use any of them.)

Fastening Lionheart to his back, he hesitated and sighed before stating the obvious. “Well… I’m off.”

Rahela knew in her head that Thancred would probably be fine. He’d survived much, much more dangerous circumstances; from the underbellies of Limsa Lominsa and Ul’dah, to the wilderness of the Dravanian Forelands, to the hostile enemy territories of the Garlean provinces and Vauthry’s Eulmore…

But even so…

… What would he find? What was Elidibus planning to do, and did it have anything to do with the ancient recording that they’d found? What would happen to the fledgeling ‘Warriors of Light’? Would G’raha find a way to send the Scions’ souls home in time before…?

Pushing down those thoughts, Rahela smiled for him. “Right. I’ll keep my ears up for any changes. Stay safe out there, lovey.”

“I’ll be ready too, for whenever we’re needed,” Ryne added, touching a hand to her chest, furrowing her brow in determination. “Even if you have to do the stealthy parts alone, we’ll fight for the future of Norvrandt together. I promised as much to Minfilia, and I mean to keep it.”

He smiled, and laid the palm of his hand on top of her head, and ruffled her hair.

“That’s my girl.”

(Thancred had once explained to Rahela that Louisoix had made that same gesture towards him on the docks of Limsa Lominsa, a lifetime ago. It didn’t hit him until years later that that was the first time in his life where another person had touched him with any sort of kindness…)

The mood turned heavily quiet, and he thought to lighten it with one of his usual quips. “And remember: no wild parties or primals in the apartment while I’m gone, alright?”

Another brief silence hung in the air. At almost the exact same time, Rahela and Ryne both stepped forward to give him one last, tight hug. Not to dissuade him from leaving. Not as some way to deny a terrifyingly uncertain future. Just…

Rahela took a long, deep breath of his scent. She could never ascribe a real name to it, other than his; buried beneath the harsh smells of leather and metal was something else. Something rich and comforting. She always missed that scent whenever they were apart…

When he spoke, it was with a lighthearted tone. “Gods, you make it seem like I’m going off to war…” Despite the attempt to laugh off their concern, he relented, and returned his wife and daughter’s embrace with a little sigh. “I promise I’ll come back. I love you both.”

“We love you, too.”

Without further fuss, Thancred walked out the door; Rahela and Ryne both watched him as he made his way down the stairs. He glanced back up when he reached the bottom, and gave them one last half-wave, with a confident half-smile…

… And exited the Pendants, out of their sight.

Just like that, it was back to the uncertainty. Back to the worrying. Back to the waiting…

With a soft sigh, Ryne opened a drawer that looked like it hadn’t been opened for awhile, and pulled out a whetstone. She retrieved her daggers, and began using the whetstone to sharpen them. 

Rahela slumped down onto the seat in front of the dresser and stared into the mirror.

The gleam of her silver ring was reflected in the crystal…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S DONE. IT'S FINALLY DONE. I CAN'T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT ON TIME.
> 
> A huge huge HUGE round of thanks to my dear Micah for beta-ing this whole thing for me; and I couldn't have gotten this out without the encouragement and support from Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club!
> 
> Writing this fic has been the single thing that's been keeping me sane throughout 2020 hell, and it's far and away the longest thing that I've written yet. I could say more, but I'm pretty sure my 5.3 dread came out more than clearly enough in this. h-hahahaha………
> 
> hopes and prays that i'll get to be able to write my sequel to this………


End file.
